Not Even Wishes
by addled
Summary: When Logan is seriously injured, Rory realizes that she has a strong and unexpected support system.
1. Chapter 1

"Can anyone help me find Logan Huntzberger?" Rory flew through the automatic doors and looked around the hospital waiting room wildly. A doctor barely looked up as she walked by. Maybe she wasn't even a doctor. Could be a nurse. Or an intern. Or heck, it may not be anyone in the medical profession at all. It didn't matter—she just needed someone to tell her where to find Logan.

"Rory!" She turned as she heard familiar voices call her name. "Rory, thank god you're here, love," Finn said, as he and Colin ran up to her, their faces white. Rory could see the fear in their eyes... it probably mirrored the fear in her own.

"Where is he?" she asked them.

Colin placed a hand on her elbow and led her to Logan's room silently. As they entered, Rory had the sudden, disconcerting thought that this was the first time he had been this quiet since she met him. She gasped when she saw Logan... bruised and battered, and deathly still. She swayed slightly as her knees began to buckle beneath her. Colin and Finn, who were standing abnormally close to her the entire time, each grabbed one of her arms and helped her keep her balance until the room stopped spinning around her.

She turned slightly to face them. "What happened?" she asked, then interrupted herself quickly before either of them could speak. "No. Wait. I don't think I want to know details yet."

Colin nodded soberly, his face still white and his mouth pinched.

"Did you guys come back with him?" she asked.

"Yeah—they tried to tell us that there was only room for one in the helicopter, but we didn't want..." Colin's voice trailed off, but Rory filled in the blanks mentally. 'We didn't want him to die on the way without us there.'

"We couldn't leave him alone," Finn finished for him, "so we both came."

"They haven't told us anything yet," Colin offered without being asked. "We keep asking doctors... Finn even tried flirting with the nurses, but all they say is 'We're doing the best we can,' or some crap like that."

"He's lucky to have you," Rory whispered, and the room fell silent once again as the irony of her statement hit all three of them at the same time. If Logan hadn't had Colin and Finn, they may not have gone cliff-jumping in the first place. Someone else might have taken the raft in his pack. The measurements might have been one hundred percent, without a doubt, correct. Someone might have suggested a different, less life-threatening stunt. But, if Logan hadn't had Colin and Finn, they might not have gotten a helicopter in as soon. It may have taken a few crucial seconds longer for someone to notice that the stunt had gone wrong. He may have been flown back alone.

The possibilities for finger-pointing, blame, what-ifs, and recriminations were endless—each person standing beside Logan's bed realized it. Unsaid thoughts swirled in each of their heads and Rory knew that for as much as she wanted to have someone to blame, so did the others; the difference was, they looked at his injuries and saw themselves reflected in his tubing, his bandages, his scabs. She saw it in their downcast eyes, in their hunched stances, and in the absence of the joking and constant teasing that made Finn and Colin the pair that they were. This wasn't them, and she knew without a doubt that, as terrified as they were now, their guilt would be unbearable if Logan didn't recover. They would never admit it out loud, but this had to have shaken them to the core.

Rory sank into the chair beside the bed, fidgeting with an edge of the blanket for a long time before finally allowing herself to look at Logan. The silence was oppressive, and it struck her that she'd never heard Colin and Finn this quiet before, either, and that scared her more than anything. Slowly, her eyes travelled up the length of the bed, taking in the still form of his body under the covers, the wires and tubes poking out and attaching him to too many machines, and finally, his face much too white, bruised, broken. She'd never seen him broken before. Not like this.

She took his hand in both of hers, and her own eyes finally filled with tears as she stared hard at his eyelids, willing them to open. They never even twitched, and a fresh wave of terror washed over her. She let out a whimper that caught in her throat and turned into a full-out sob, and she finally collapsed forward, falling into herself, forehead resting on the bed beside his hand.

Eventually, Rory felt a hand on her shoulder, not rubbing it, not hugging her, just... there. A solid warmth anchoring her to the room—a room she didn't want to be sitting in. Suddenly, she couldn't take it any more. She sat up and pushed herself out of the chair, running towards the door.

"Rory?" she heard Colin's voice call as she exited into the hallway.

"Love?" Finn echoed a second later.

Rory didn't know, nor did she care, whether they followed her or not. She just needed to get out of there.

With shaking hands she reached for her phone, needing to talk to someone—someone who knew her, who would understand. She dialled the number she didn't even realize she had memorized and a fresh batch of tears started when the familiar voice answered.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line was thick with sleep.

"Jess?" Her voice broke and she wasn't sure why she was doing this, but she knew it had to be him.

"Rory? What's wrong?"

She drew a shaky breath. "It's Logan...he's hurt, really hurt—and no one knows anything, I don't really know how bad it is."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone, then he spoke. "Why did you call me?"

"Because..." Rory trailed off. Why did she call him, especially in the middle of the night? Why should he care about Logan? Actually, of all the people in the world, he was probably the least likely person to care about Logan. "You were the first person I thought of."

Jess made a non-committal sound, something like "Hmm." He cleared his throat and went on. "Are you okay? What happened?"

And there it was. Why she always went back to him. No matter what happened between them, good or bad, he always wanted to be sure of her safety. "I'm fine, I wasn't with him. He... fell off a cliff." Even as she said it out loud, she realized how ridiculous it sounded and was struck by an inexplicable urge to laugh out loud—an urge she quickly stifled, even though she knew Jess wouldn't think anything of it.

Jess laughed wryly. "Idiot."

That, Rory could certainly agree with. "Yeah." Rory's tears dried up slightly, and a comfortable silence fell between them until Rory broke it. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you... I didn't want you to worry... I know I don't usually call you."

"No, don't be. You can always call me." He sighed, and Rory could swear she heard him rubbing his jaw over the phone.

"I just... I'm really scared."

"So you called me." She could tell he was still trying to wrap his mind around this fact.

Rory nodded, even though Jess couldn't see her. "I don't know if he's going to make it... and I didn't even say goodbye before he left!"

There was that laugh again. "You've got something about that word, don't you?"

Rory knew exactly what he was referring to. "It's not about that. I was mad at him... I didn't tell him to have a good trip, or be careful, or anything. I knew he was going to do this dangerous thing and I was so cold to him! What if he dies, Jess? What if he dies and he doesn't think that I care about him?" She glanced around her at the tall walls of the atrium that she had somehow found herself standing in. They were tall and solid and very, very intimidating. She knew Colin and Finn were up there, with Logan. She wondered if he knew somehow that they were all there...and here she was, outside, not with him. "I left the room...I just couldn't stay there anymore, I felt like I was suffocating."

Jess was silent, but his steady breathing on the other end of the line comforted her more than anything he could have said, and her ragged breaths finally slowed down to a normal pace, matching his.

"Are you going to be okay?" he finally asked.

Rory sighed. "I don't know. I think so. I just want to go home and sleep until it's all over and everything's fixed." She shuddered and drew in a breath as a realization hit her. "This isn't going to be over for a very long time, is it?"

Jess didn't answer for a long time, and when he finally did, it wasn't with the reassuring platitudes that they both wished he could give. "No."

His minimal response sent a fresh wave of panic washing over Rory, and her eyes began burning, sending the first cold fingers of a tension headache into her temples. "I mean, what if he doesn't wake up for weeks? Or months? And then when he does wake up, he'll have physical therapy, and rehab, and doctor's appointments, and... oh god, I wonder if Mitchum will still make him go to London. He can't do that, can he? I guess that's a good thing, if it means he gets to stay here... but this isn't a good thing at all, and what am I thinking?" 

"Rory." Jess interrupted her quietly.

She kept rambling. "How can I do it all? How can I juggle school, and the paper, and Mom, and everything else, and still help Logan get better?"

"Rory!" Jess almost shouted into the phone. She stopped, mid-thought. "You don't have to figure it all out today."

"But—" she began.

"You don't need to figure it all out today," Jess repeated firmly, then sighed. "And, as much as I hate to do this to myself..." he paused for so long that Rory wondered if he was going to finish his sentence.

"You still there?" she asked.

"Just making sure I want to finish that thought."

"Oh." She waited a few seconds longer. "Let me know when you decide."

"As much as I hate this," he began again, "my offer still stands. You can call me whenever you need to. Even if it's because you're stressed out because of... him." He said the last word like it was a sour grape that needed to be spit out.

Rory smiled slightly, feeling some of the tension drain out of her body as her stance relaxed slightly. She leaned against a wall, feeling suddenly weak, like she was going to melt into a puddle, but it wasn't the helpless mess that she had collapsed into in Logan's room with Finn and Colin—instead, she felt like she could relax and melt, because someone would be able to prop her up.

"I should get back in there," she said quietly, warmth in her voice.

"Okay."

"Jess?"

"Yeah?"

The word seemed far too simple, but it was all she knew to say. "Thanks."

"Good night, Rory."

"G'night, Jess. I'll talk to you later." She pulled the phone away from her ear and slowly flipped it shut, then turned back down the hallway in the direction she had come, back towards Logan's room and all that was waiting for her there.


	2. Chapter 2

A special thanks to our fantastic beta, **paulanka**! This story would not be what it is without her.

* * *

**Not Even Wishes: Chapter 2  
**

Rory entered the room silently and almost hesitantly. She closed her eyes the second she stepped inside, still not sure she wanted to see Logan this way. She swayed slightly, then caught herself--she needed to be here, for him. Colin and Finn were sitting on either side of his bed, both silent, staring anywhere but at Logan's face—their hands, the floor, the curtains, Logan's feet—and she was struck with a realization that they loved him, too; just as much as she did, maybe more.

The boys looked up when she made a noise to announce her presence. They looked beyond just scared; their faces were a mixture of guilt, worry, and sheer terror, and it shook Rory to the core to see Colin's red-rimmed eyes and the dried tears streaking Finn's face. The question hung, unspoken, between the three of them. Would Logan be okay? Rory wouldn't allow herself to think otherwise at the moment.

Finn stood and nodded to Colin, who did the same. "Why don't we leave you alone with him, love? We'll be right outside."

She smiled gratefully at them and took a seat in the chair next to the bed. Once again, she took Logan's hand in both her own. She started speaking to him, hoping he could hear her, telling him everything—how she was sorry for sending him off the way she did, and how much she loved him—how stupid he was for attempting to do what he did—how much she hated him for getting hurt—how scared she was the he wouldn't be okay—and anything that came to her mind—except, of course, her recent trip to Philly. Jess' words kept circling in her mind—she didn't have to figure everything out and she had him if she needed.

Rory didn't know how long she sat there pouring out everything she was feeling, but by the time she was finally interrupted by Finn's reappearance, she had long since shifted her focus to Logan's face, swallowing her fear—she couldn't talk to his hands and feet any longer. The light coming in through the windows had changed, shifting the shadows and bathing the room in a golden glow that would have been beautiful, had it not been a hospital room.

"Hey," he said, rapping lightly on the door as he opened it.

Rory looked up from Logan's bed and her back cracked as she moved. "Hey." She twisted in her chair, stretching her neck and back muscles. "Wow—I must have been sitting like that for a long time." She stood up and stretched her arms, shaking loose the tension that had settled in her joints. "How long have you guys been gone?"

Finn looked at his wrist, which was minus a watch. "I actually have no idea," he said. "Colin's out making the rest of the phone calls now—he called Mitchum and Shira a few hours ago, and I think he's calling Honor and Josh now."

Rory grimaced. "I don't envy him that at all," she said with a wry half-smile.

"Why do you think I let him take care of it, love?" Finn asked. "I don't want to be on the business end of one of Mitchum's lectures on responsibility and taking too many stupid risks and wasting time. Colin's more polite than I am. He'll pretend to listen, whereas I, my friend, would yell obscenities in his ear and then hang up the phone."

Rory laughed quietly, then turned serious, looking at Finn's rumpled clothing, the bags under his eyes, and his hands, which were still trembling slightly. "How are you doing? Have you gotten any sleep? Had any food?"

Finn sighed. "I'm awake and breathing, aren't I? Can't ask for much more than that."

Rory had no idea how to answer that, but fortunately, she was saved from the awkwardness by Colin's arrival. "I am never talking voluntarily to Mitchum Huntzberger again," he burst out, entering the room in a rage.

"That bad?" Finn asked, his comment noticeably void of a sharp, witty comeback.

"Worse," Colin spat, rubbing his temples.

"Are any of the family coming?" Rory asked, not sure which answer she wanted to hear more—for her own sake, she would gladly avoid any interactions with Logan's parents; for his sake, she wanted them to be there to support him in the ways they had never mastered for the first 23 years of his life.

"Honor and Josh are," Colin said simply, and all three of them were silent again as the ramifications of that statement hit them again. A surge of white hot anger flashed through Rory—anger at Logan for being so stupid as to get hurt so badly, anger at herself for letting him leave in the middle of a fight, anger at Mitchum and Shira for not bothering to come immediately—and she didn't know who to be most upset with. Trouble was, there was no one to take something like this out on. There was no one to blame, and the enormity of the situation hit her again. Funny how it did that whenever she started thinking too much.

"I'm going to walk around for a while; maybe get something to eat," she said, grabbing her purse. "Are you two okay to stay here? I'll be back in twenty minutes, max, and I'll take my phone with me—I can be back here right away if anything happens."

Colin gestured towards the door with his head. "Go. You've been in here for at least four hours; you need a break."

Rory and Finn looked at each other and grinned slightly. Leave it to Colin to keep track of the time, even in the middle of something like this.

"Hey, Rory?" Colin stopped her walk to the door.

She turned around. "Yeah?"

He closed the gap between them and enveloped her in a warm, brotherly hug. "He's lucky to have you," he said, the words slightly muffled, his voice cracking on the last word.

At his simple statement, tears filled her eyes again—today, she was turning into nothing more than a walking tear duct—and she began to shake against him, letting the fear and worry overwhelm her once again. Finn stepped towards them and wrapped his arms awkwardly around both her shoulders and Colin's, and the three stood there, holding each other up for several minutes, until Rory finally pulled away, wiping her eyes.

"Okay, I need food," she stated, trying to regain her composure. "I'll be back soon." She left the room, trying to ignore the fact that everywhere she walked, she was breathing in the scent of medicine and antiseptic and injury and sickness—going to the cafeteria for a snack wasn't an escape at all, but she could pretend with the best of them. As she walked, she pulled her phone out of her purse, checking to see if her mother had called. There were three missed calls—two from Lorelai, and one from an unfamiliar number—and she dialled the code for her voice mail.

"Hey babe," she heard her mother's voice say. "Your dad left me a note and told me the basics. Call me when you get a chance—and... I hope Logan's okay." There was a long pause. "I really do, hon. Call me if you need anything."

Rory pressed '9' to save the message, and then the mechanical voice informed her that the second message had been left only twenty minutes ago.

"Rory." It was Jess' voice, a fact which took Rory by surprise. It wasn't a number she recognized as one of his—he must have called from the office as soon as he got to work. "Just wanted to make sure you're dealing okay—the first few hours have probably been a huge shock; I didn't want you to have a meltdown or something. You're in New York, right? Which hospital? Maybe I can give you a list of coffee shops nearby. I did live there long enough to find some good ones—contrary to popular belief, not everything I did there was illegal and destructive." She can hear the smirk in his voice. "Remember—I'm still here if you need me." The message ended without a goodbye, and Rory pressed '1' to hear it again, a tiny smile playing at the corners of her lips as she walked into the cafeteria.

She tasted the coffee she had gotten from the machine, and grimaced at the bitterness. It wasn't the good kind of bitterness that was usually associated with coffee... this brown liquid (if you could even call it liquid) bore almost no resemblance to coffee. She grabbed something resembling pound cake from the line, after a moment, grabbed two more and handed the cashier some the money. Rory sat down at an empty table, rubbing her temples. Hospitals were never her favorite place to be—she only remembered being in a hospital three times before. Once was when Richard had collapsed at the Christmas party. Wow...she hadn't thought about that night in years. She remembered how scared she had been that night—well, she thought to herself, that night had nothing on this one. At least Richard had been conscious and alert. Against her will, her eyes welled up again. Please let him be okay, she prayed. She wasn't a religious person—not by a long shot—but at this point, she would try anything.

_This really sucks_, Rory thought to herself as she ate the tasteless cake. Bad coffee, bad cake, bad night. Well, "bad night" was an understatement, to say the least. She almost physically ached to feel Logan's arms around her, wanting to rest her head on his chest, craving his comfort and support, and she laughed aloud at the irony of the thought. She rubbed her tired eyes and searched through her purse for some Tylenol or something. Predictably, she came up empty. Why don't I ever have anything useful in this thing?

The air in the cafeteria was almost worse than it was upstairs. No, scratch that. It was definitely worse than it was upstairs. Bad food and antiseptic should never be smelled in the same whiff. Balancing her coffee and her cakes, Rory went outside to get some fresh air. She perched on a small ledge and put down the food, and opened her phone, pressing her speed dial for Lorelai's cell phone.

Lorelai picked up on the first ring. "Rory, I'm glad you called...what's going on? How is he?"

"He's... unconscious. The doctors won't really tell us anything..." Rory didn't really feel like having this conversation, but she knew her mother was worried for her, and she didn't want another person to be more upset than necessary. "I'll probably be here for a few days. I'll check in with you... I should get back up there."

"Of course, hon. Call me if you need me." Lorelai paused, then added, "I'm sure he'll be fine, kid."

Rory felt the tears threaten to start up again. "I'll talk to you later, Mom." She hung up the phone and sniffled hard. She couldn't cry again, not now, not yet. She opened her voicemail again, playing Jess' message once more and she felt a wave of warmth over her as she listened to his voice. Tucking her phone away, she straightened up and prepared to go back inside.

She found Colin in the hall on his phone, standing next to the "no cell phones" sign. Rory touched his arm gently and he gave her a tight smile. "Yes, New York Presbyterian," he was telling the person on the other end of the phone. She motioned toward the room, indicating that she was going inside, and he nodded, holding up one finger in the universal "just a minute" sign.

Finn sat in the chair by the bed, leaning back with his feet resting on the guardrail. "So you are a crucial element for my next party, and you can't be a part of it from here," he was saying. Rory couldn't help but smile as she walked up to them and placed a hand on Finn's shoulder, glad that at least one of them was finally looking a little more normal.

"Did you at least have fun for a while?" she asked. She didn't know why, but it was very important to know that Logan had at least enjoyed himself before... Before what? she berated herself. He will wake up..."This isn't the end!" she blurted without thinking. Finn looked up at her with understanding in his eyes as she clapped a hand over her mouth and dropped her head. "I didn't mean to say that," she groaned.

"I know, love," he soothed, leaning further back in the chair, tipping it on the back two legs. Rory kept expecting him to fall on his back, but he caught his balance smoothly just before the chair fell all the way over.

"How is he?" she asked, taking the seat on the opposite side of the bed from Finn.

"Regaling me with all the intimate details of your sex life," he deadpanned, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively, sending them both into gales of hysterical, tension-releasing laughter that made Rory feel better than she had all day

"Any change here?" Colin asked, entering the room and looking immediately hopeful as he took in their raucous laughter.

Rory took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, and ran a finger under her eyes to stop them from watering before she answered. "Apparently he's been talking to Finn."

"Sex life?" Colin asked, bumping Finn's shoulder with his elbow.

Finn just leaned back in the chair again, crossed his hands behind his head, and grinned smugly. "I know more than you ever will, my friend," he said.

"And that's something you're proud of?" Rory retorted, crossing her arms indignantly over her chest, levelling each of them with a serious glare, which each boy returned, matching her stare for stare until she couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing again. "Seriously, guys—can you not discuss my sex life anymore? At least, wait until I've left the room, okay?"

"Whatever you say, love," Finn said, lowering an imaginary pair of sunglasses from on top of his head and pretending to look at her over the rims.

Rory groaned. "Smack him for me please, Colin," she said. "I can't move." She sunk deeper into the chair, trying to get comfortable. "What time is it?" she asked.

Colin checked his watch as he settled into the third chair. "Almost nine," he said.

"In the morning," Finn added, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I didn't know that there was more than one of these in a day."

"Longest seven hours of my life," Rory muttered, leaning her head back, her eyelids starting to droop.

Their conversation slowed to a comment here and there, and then stopped altogether as they shifted in their chairs, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The distraction of laughter gone, each of them was consumed again with thoughts, their fears coming back to haunt them. Rory could hear Colin shifting, and Finn cleared his throat a few too many times to be just a cough, and she wondered if it was even worth it to try and sleep. If the nightmares she could feel nipping at her heels caught up with her, it would be better to stay awake—to try and chase away the haunting, disjointed images with conversation and distraction. Finally her blinks became longer, and her eyes drifted shut, and although she didn't feel truly rested, the nap served its purpose, and she felt a small measure of escape, at least for a few hours.


	3. Chapter 3

When Rory's eyes fluttered open several hours later, the room was still. Colin and Finn were both still sleeping, slouched down in the rather uncomfortable chairs, Finn's feet still propped up on the end of the bed; Colin's arms wrapped around himself. Logan looked the same—still, unmoving. Rory picked up the boys' jackets off the floor and draped them over each of them, grateful for their devotion to Logan and their willingness to stay here with him—they were, in a way, the closest family he had, and she couldn't be gladder that she didn't have to be here with him alone.

She paused again at the head of the bed, looking down at Logan's face, and reached out to touch it for the first time since arriving. She smoothed a lock of hair off his forehead, lightly touching the wounds that criss-crossed his forehead, wishing there was healing power in her fingertips, wishing he would react to her touch the way he had so many times before, turning his head to catch her fingertips in his lips. Bending down, she brushed a soft kiss across his lips before turning to leave the room, lingering in the doorway, looking at all three of them in various stages of sleep, a scene she had seen several times before, after a long night of partying. If she squinted her eyes just so, she could almost pretend that this was one of those nights, and not the unending nightmare that it actually was.

Taking the elevator down to the lobby, she left the hospital for the first time since arriving, blinking furiously as the bright sunshine hit her eyes. "Ugh," she muttered, running her tongue over her teeth, feeling the fuzziness and almost tasting her own bad breath. There was a drugstore across the street, so she ducked inside, picking up a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, deodorant, and a few other necessities, and as she paid and exited, she realized exactly how many hours it had been since she'd had real coffee—something other than the brown sludge in the cafeteria.

Taking her cell phone out of her purse, she flipped it open and dialled the number that was becoming increasingly more familiar. "Jess?" she said when he picked up the line. "Where are the good coffee shops?"

As she entered Gotham City, the coffee shop that Jess had recommended, she took a deep breath and breathed in the heavenly aroma. "Espresso," she ordered when it was her turn. "And three...no, make that four—house blends, please." She needed the shot of caffeine, and the rest of the coffees were for her and the boys. She couldn't let them survive on cafeteria sludge, either.

Rory downed the espresso in one gulp, feeling the rush of caffeine flow through her. She smiled to herself as she remembered all the nights she had seen Logan down tequila shots like she had just done to the espresso. She sighed deeply. She didn't want to be gone from him for this long. If—when—he woke up, she wanted to be there. She got a few muffins to go, too... they could only survive so long on the paper-like pound cake from the cafeteria, and these muffins looked amazing—big and moist, with chunks of real fruit on top. Rory shook her head and laughed at herself. She knew she had to be stressed, if she was thinking that fruit muffins looked good. She suppressed the urge to get the peach-strawberry muffin, and went for the cappuccino-chip one instead; she had a reputation to maintain.

When she returned to the hospital, she stopped in the hall bathroom to splash some water on her face and change into the t-shirt she had bought in the pharmacy. Unfortunately, it was a stereotypical touristy, "I heart New York" t-shirt, but it would do for the time being. She also had matching sweatpants, but anything was better than her dress. Luckily, she had put on her sneakers instead of her dress shoes when she ran out of the house, and she hadn't had to worry about being in heels for this long. She looked in the mirror over the sink, seeing the dark circles under her eyes for the first time. "Logan..." she whispered. "Why'd you have to go and be this stupid and do this to all of us? I hate this."

Rory took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She prepared herself to go back. At least the tension wasn't quite as high as it had been when she first got there. They were able to joke around a little. That felt normal. Anything that felt normal was good. When she got back to Logan's room, Colin and Finn were arguing half-heartedly. Again, good. "I got coffee... the real stuff," she told them.

They looked up at her appreciatively. "Rory, love, you're a lifesaver," Finn declared.

"So what tales has our boy been regaling you with?" she kidded lightly, keeping the tone from earlier—it was much safer than dealing with the cold harsh reality.

An hour later, the empty coffee cups were littering the windowsills in the room, and Rory felt like she, Colin, and Finn had officially set up camp in Logan's hospital room. Their shoes had all been kicked off and tossed into a corner, their jackets and extra clothes had been slung over the backs of chairs and on bed railings, and they had each staked a claim on a specific chair, arranging them in the perfect setup for maximum comfort, foot-propping, and conversation. It was getting more (dare she say it?) comfortable, and maybe it was just the lack of sleep filtering her vision, but it seemed much less cold and sterile than it had the night before. It crossed Rory's mind briefly that she should be thankful that they were in a private room, in one of the best hospitals, and she was never more grateful for Logan's name recognition--no doctor or nurse would dare bind a Huntzberger to visiting hours.

"Finn, do you have any eights?" Rory asked, seriously examining the cards in her hand.

"Go fish," he crowed, leaning back in his chair in satisfaction as she made a face at him and drew a card from the stack resting on Logan's calves.

"Rory, darling, give me your eight," Colin demanded in a faux, very bad, Australian accent, holding out a hand and snapping his fingers at her. Finn clutched a hand to his heart, gasping over the atrocious attempt.

She handed the card over with a sigh and a dramatic flourish, throwing down the rest of her cards. "That's it. You've finished me. How are you two so good at Go Fish, anyway?"

"It was your suggestion, love," Finn reminded her.

"Yeah, because I thought that by playing a game that doesn't involve gambling, I'd have a shot."

"Rory, Rory, Rory," Finn chided. "You will never beat us at any card game. Ever. It's just a fact of life that you would do well to accept now."

"But... it's Go Fish!" she protested.

"Cards, love," he responded.

"It's true," Colin affirmed. "It's impossible to beat either of us. Doesn't matter what we're playing. Logan's the only one who's consistently beaten either of us at anything."

"Then it's your fault!" Rory chided, reaching out to squeeze Logan's hand. "Your card-playing luck should be rubbing off on me! What is this—are you betraying me for these two?"

"Don't listen to her, mate!" Finn shot back. "As soon as you let a girl in on your winning streak, we'll never hear the end of it!"

"Oh, and who's the one who puts up with your dirty socks and the toilet seat that you always leave up? If that doesn't give me the right to cash in on your luck, I don't know what does!"

"Oh. No." Finn and Colin said in unison. "First rule of poker night. No domestic disputes."

"But—" Rory sputtered "—this isn't poker night! This is Go Fish!"

"What did I say about cards?" Finn asked her, as though talking to a child. "They're all the same. The universal rules apply."

"I still say this is no fair," Rory mock-pouted. "I've gotta get something out of this deal... I mean, here I am, sitting here with three boys, forced to play cards and amuse myself in distinctly un-girly ways, and I get no payoff. I don't even get to steal my boyfriend's good luck!"

"What can I say, doll, it's a tough life." Finn reached over and patted her on the knee, and she smacked his hand away, glaring playfully at him.

"That's it. You boys aren't nice anymore."

"Anymore?" Colin raised an eyebrow at Finn. "Were we ever?"

"And," Rory continued, speaking over them, "I don't have to take it. I'm just going to sit by myself and read a book." She flounced around in her chair, facing the other direction with her legs hanging over the arm, and sat like that with her arms crossed over her chest just long enough to make the most of the comic timing before she spun back around. "Do either of you have a book?"

The boys looked at each other and all three of them burst out laughing.

Rory shook her head, and wiped away the tears that had come to her eyes—this time from laughter. "You're terrible."

"But that's why you love us," Finn reminded her.

"I never said that," Rory protested, but her words fell on deaf ears. She let a moment go by, enjoying the silence. "When did Honor say she would be here?"

Colin rubbed his forehead and leaned forward. "She was on her honeymoon in Greece, so she said they'd get here as soon as they could get a flight."

Rory nodded and stretched her arms above her head. Glancing at the clock, she realized that it was almost two. "Guys, why don't you go out for a while? I'll stay here. Go get some more coffee. Go... shave, or something. I didn't want to tell you before, but you look like hell—terrible," she quickly corrected herself. They looked like hell because they had been through hell, and she didn't want to remind them all of that. Still, they still could use a shave and clean clothes. "There's a drugstore across the street and the coffee shop is two blocks over, on 68th and 2nd."

"What's the name of this place?" Finn asked, even though it had been printed on the coffee cups that were still lying on the radiator.

"Gotham City," she told them, slightly bemused.

"Quick, Finn, to the Batmobile!" Colin cried, striking a superhero pose.

"Away!" Finn added, mimicking Colin's stance.

"Just go!" Rory threw a wadded up napkin at the two of them. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Boys." She took Logan's hand and squeezed it. "Do you see what I have to put up with when you're not around?" she asked him, maneuvering her chair closer to the side of his bed, laying her head down beside him.

She thought about trying to lie down beside him, the way she had always seen on TV, but she was too afraid of disturbing any of the tubes or wires, or, worse yet, jarring or hurting him in some way, so instead, she settled for resting her head beside his on the pillow. It wasn't the most comfortable position she'd ever been in, but she needed to be close, to feel warmth radiating from his skin, to hear the soft whisper of his breath. She needed him to reassure her that he would be fine, and if he couldn't do it with his words, she would listen hard to hear what he couldn't say.

In, out. In, out. The regularity soothed her, and by focusing on his breathing, she was almost able to ignore the constant beeping in the background. She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, gently searching out his pulse, and when she found it, she relaxed even further, feeling like she was sinking into the cold hospital pillow. In... beat, beat, beat... out... beat, beat, beat. In... beat, beat, beat... out... beat, beat, beat. There it was—the essence of being alive, and she savored the sound of his breath and the feel of his pulse as much in that moment as she ever had the sound of his voice and the feel of his hands.

Rory had always loved Logan's zest for life—from the beginning, it drew her, attracted her, compelled her to join him. She knew that so often, his bravado and charisma hid deep, secret hurts that she was only beginning to see, but despite that, she knew that he truly loved the thrill and the adrenaline. Even though she was beginning to see how much it could frighten her, she loved the wicked twinkle in his eye when he was planning some outrageous stunt, the tone his voice took when he was cajoling her to join him, the way he looked utterly and completely alive when he was taking a risk and embarking on something new. Whether it was jumping off a scaffold in formal wear, trying a disgusting-looking exotic delicacy, or helping her unpack in their apartment, Logan was most in his element when he was pushing himself and everyone around him to be less afraid, to do something new and different.

Right now, she was terrified, and yet, even in her fear, even in his unconsciousness, he was reassuring her—telling her with his breath, and his heartbeat, and his pulse; soothing her with the way his nerves jumped and his fingers twitched in response to her touch. Even now, he was taking on a new challenge, and his heartbeat did more to breathe courage and life into Rory than his smile or his eyes ever had.

"When this is over," she whispered into his neck, "there's going to be hell to pay for putting me through this." Tears filled her eyes for what seemed like the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours, spilling onto his skin and his sheets. "When this is over," she repeated over and over with a catch in her voice, a mantra that she had to cling to in order to keep from drowning.


	4. Chapter 4

bAuthors' Notes/BThis story keeps gaining momentum! We decided this was our favorite chapter, so enjoy. Thanks always to our wonderful beta, bpaulanka/b!

Rory didn't know how long she lay there, just listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing and his pulse under her fingertips, but it must have been a while. Eventually, the sound of confident footsteps broke into her consciousness. A man in his mid-40s with a warm smile, wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck, walked in the room. "Hi," he greeted Rory, holding his hand out. "I'm Doctor Ackerman."

"Rory Gilmore," she said, straightening up and trying to look alert.

Dr. Ackerman smiled and took Logan's chart from the foot of the bed. "What's your relation to young Mr. Huntzberger, Miss Gilmore?"

"I'm his girlfriend," she replied, feeling instantly childish and foolish, like she should have said that she was his fiancée or sister—something that would get more information.

Dr. Ackerman skimmed over the chart. "In a few moments, Miss Gilmore, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to step out in the hall for bit. Strictly procedure."

Rory nodded—she didn't like the idea, but as long as she wasn't being chased out of the room for an extended period of time, she could live with it. "How is he?"

"He's stable," Dr. Ackerman told her. "It's pretty serious, but he's a strong young man and I have every confidence he'll recover fully."

She let out a sigh of relief without realizing it, and the tears pricked at her eyelids again. "Thank you, Doctor." The next question was one she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to. "How long... how long do you think it'll be before he wakes up?" she asked, her voice breaking.

The doctor looked at her with kind eyes. "It will be a few days, at least. Possibly a week. Shouldn't be too much longer than that, though there's no guarantee."

Rory nodded, trying to stay strong. She blinked rapidly, in an attempt to stop the tears that threatened to leak out again. "Thank you, doctor," she whispered.

The doctor placed a comforting hand on her shoulder briefly. "I'll have to ask you to wait outside for a few minutes now, Miss Gilmore ."

Rory nodded, not trusting her voice, and walked into the hall, hugging herself tightly. She wasn't going to break down again—she had spent too much time crying, and she needed to be strong; if not for her own sake, then for Logan's. It was such a cliché, "be strong for his sake," but in the past day, she had come to the realization that she needed to buy into the clichés, if only to have a way to define and explain all this.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, and leaned against the wall, rolling her shoulders, flexing her toes, and stretching her arms out in front of her. She couldn't remember ever feeling this stiff after a night spent on a floor or in a chair before, but the stress is definitely getting to her, affecting her whole body, beyond just making her tired. Still, she'd adjust. She had to. If she was going to be here for the long haul, she'd just have to make her body get used to sleeping in chairs for short stretches at a time, eating bad food, and not showering. She was a college student—she could mold her body and her psyche into any schedule, right? That's the joy of being young and resilient.

The thought overwhelmed her slightly—in her wildest dreams, she had never imagined being twenty-one, looking ahead to the next... months? years? at her boyfriend's rehabilitation. And it wasn't that Rory didn't want to be there, but she hadn't even begun to think about how it would affect her—her dreams, education, plans. She wasn't even thinking about leaving him alone during this, but she was beginning to realize how firmly this would bind them together.

If this had happened five years from now, if they were married, if they really were each other's world, it would be completely different—she would have no trouble getting information from the doctors, and there would have no questions about whether or not Rory would stay. But this—she knew that she could walk away from it, life would move on, and people would forgive her eventually, but Rory was tired of running. She was tired of looking at challenges and turning her back on them. She was tired of fearing the kind of love that stuck through thick and thin.

Her phone rang, snapping her out of her reverie. She fumbled in her pocket, catching it just before it went to voicemail. "Hello?"

"Hey, Rory," Jess' voice said.

"Hi," she said, finding a chair not far from Logan's room, keeping an eye on the door, waiting for the doctor to come out.

"How are you?" he asked, concern tingeing his voice.

She thought for a second before answering. "Okay," she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. "I'm actually... okay."

He laughed. "Well, that's good to hear, even though you sound like you're still trying to convince yourself."

She smiled. "It's just weird to think I could be okay, even with this."

"It's healthy, Rory. You can't constantly be a wreck—eventually, you'll wear out."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm good, but I'm tired."

"I bet," Jess sympathized. "It's been a long day."

"Yeah, it has." Rory paused, closing her eyes for a moment. "So, what's up? To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

Jess laughed. "Just checking in on you."

"Ah, so you're my babysitter now?" Rory said, not at all offended.

"Yeah."

"Why?" Rory grew quiet.

Jess sighed, but didn't say anything for a few seconds. Finally, he said, "I don't know, actually."

"Oh."

"No—" he reassured her, hearing the beaten tone in her voice. "I don't mean that I don't want to look out for you... I just feel like you need someone. You're strong, Rory. I know it, and if you want to believe it, you know it, but..."

"But what?" she asked when he trailed off.

"But it's going to be hard. I just don't want you to get overwhelmed. I want to make sure that you remember that you've got someone to vent to. And... I don't like him. You know that. If I had my way, you'd walk out of that hospital right now, and never go back." Jess started to get angry, his voice getting louder as he spoke. "He doesn't deserve you, Rory. He... if he cheated on you, he doesn't deserve you sitting in the hospital beside him, not sleeping or eating, waiting for him to wake up. He doesn't know what he's got, and I... it makes me want to punch him."

"Jess," Rory protested, but he kept talking.

"He doesn't deserve you," Jess said heatedly, "but you're there with him." His voice got softer again, almost to the point where Rory had to strain to hear him. "I don't like him, but I... I care about you. You're my friend, Rory, and I don't want to see you get hurt."

Rory stayed silent—she didn't know what to say to something like that.

"And I know you're hurting, and I know I can't keep things from being hard and bad, but I can be here if you need me, and I can make sure you're as okay as you can be."

The tears were threatening to come again. She was tired, stressed, and scared as hell, but Jess knew. He always knew; somehow, he always understood. Just knowing that fact warmed Rory to the core and took away some of the tension from her body. "You help. You do help... a lot," she told him quietly—and she knew how hard it was for him to support her when he disliked Logan so much. She remembered the night Jess had met him, and the little she had told him when she saw him a few weeks ago, and she didn't have to wonder what made him dislike Logan so much.

Part of her wanted to tell Jess all about it—everything, all the good in Logan, in their relationship. What made her change her mind was not that he wouldn't want to hear it, but more that it would come out sounding defensive, and that's not what she wanted.

"Hey." Jess cleared his throat. "Call me, okay? I have to make sure you haven't worried yourself into a tiny little stress ball. And don't try to be strong," he told her firmly. "You'll just make it worse. If you want to cry, cry... if you want to yell, that's okay too, but don't try to be strong for everyone else. It's not your job."

A small smile crossed her features. "I'll try," she promised him. "I'll talk to you later."

"Bye, Rory."

Rory closed the phone but kept her hand wrapped tightly around it, as if somehow that would keep her grounded, and connected. Connected to what or whom, she wasn't sure, but she just couldn't bring herself to put the phone away just yet. Luckily, the doctor chose that moment to exit the room. "How is he?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.

Dr. Ackerman smiled kindly at her. "We're doing everything we can. He's going to have a tough time, but he'll pull through."

She nodded, thanking him again, and headed back into the room. Pausing by the doorway, Rory took in the sight of Logan. He still hadn't budged; the only thing that was moving was his chest, up and down with his breathing. That comforted her, though she couldn't stand to see him hooked up to all the tubes and monitors. Quickly, she took a seat right by the bed, on the opposite side from his IV tubing, where she could only see him—where the machines were behind her and out of her peripheral vision. Laying her phone in her lap, she took Logan's still hand in hers and held it tightly. She brushed some hair off his forehead, careful not to bump the cuts and bruises, and kissed his temple lightly.

"Logan," she whispered softly. "Come back to me. It hurts to see you like this... you hardly sit still for more than two minutes at a time. Colin and Finn are worried about you, Honor's cutting her honeymoon short—I know you like to be the center of attention, but honey, this is a little ridiculous." Rory laughed quietly and didn't bother to stop the tears that leaked from her eyes. She and Logan were not usually ones for little endearments, unless, of course, they were laced with sarcasm, but very occasionally and privately, she liked to use them. It made it more special, she thought.

She thought about that, then; how her mother used endearments like they were going out of style. Everyone was honey, or baby, or sweets to Lorelai. It was just the kind of person she was, and as much as they were alike, Rory could never bring herself to use the pet names so casually. Absently, she ran her thumb over the back of Logan's hand. The "honey" had been a recent addition to her vocabulary with Logan, and she was careful not to overuse it, for fear it might lose its meaning.

Rory thought back to how their relationship had started—it had mostly been about the physical. She was practically ready to sleep with him right after they had first kissed, and it had just progressed from there, though for the first few months it had been largely about the sex. That's not to say they hadn't simply enjoyed each other's company, but there weren't many movie nights, not much talking. Bantering, flirting, sex with words was how they started. They still did that, of course, but it was different now, or so she liked to think--no, she knew it was different now. They couldn't have made it a year if it was the same as it had been then.

She had used endearments in one other relationship, she remembered, and she felt a small pang. She had called him "baby," and even that had only used a total of twice—maybe—the entire time they were dating. She wondered, though, if perhaps she was the only person to ever call him that, to feel so protective over him, and yet she could tell that he had felt that about her as well.

There had been intimate moments she shared with him, and though most people would use the word 'intimate' primarily in regards to sex, that wasn't where they had found their intimacy. No matter how often they had made out, or whatever it was that they had done physically, it had never been solely about that. Oh sure, she had thought about it, wondered, even hoped... but the fates had seemed to be against it—or maybe it wasn't anything as romantic as that. Maybe they just hadn't been ready, and they had sabotaged themselves. Whatever the reason, it just hadn't been meant to be, and she could look back on it now without feeling the raw pain that she had all those years ago.

Someone walked by the open door, and the clicking of the heels on the tile floor brought Rory back to the present. At once, she felt slight guilt over having forgotten that she was here, and why. She looked over the face of the man she now loved, a face she was very well acquainted with, and her tears continued to fall. 


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning, Rory woke up early, before the sun was fully up. The sky outside the hospital window was still grey, and she was the only one moving in the room. Colin had fallen asleep on the floor in a corner; Finn had pulled his and Colin's chairs together and his tall frame was folded nearly in half to fit in them. Logan was as still as ever, and Rory stared at him for a long time trying to discern if anything at all had changed overnight. The hospital seemed quieter at this time—even the footsteps of doctors and nurses passing outside the door seemed slower and further apart, punctuating the periods of silence, rather than being the constant pulse of the hospital.

Rory stretched and yawned, cracking her back as she flexed the stiff muscles, and then stood, walking to the bathroom, then opening the blinds before pulling her chair closer to Logan's bedside, so that she was facing the window. It was peaceful—almost, dare she say it, relaxing—in the early morning calm, and she sat with her blanket around her shoulders, knees tucked up to her chest, watching all three of them sleep while the sun rose over the East River, sending its rays in through the window.

The early-morning light, as it increased in intensity, spilled directly over Logan's face, brightening his grayish pallor, and highlighting the stubble that had begun to grow. It made him look healthy—different from the way he looked under either the harsh fluorescent lights that were on during the doctors' examinations or the dimmer lamps that they kept on in the room the rest of the time. If it weren't for the bruises and stitches covering his face, Rory would almost believe that he was just sleeping.

She sat there until the sun was fully up, listening to the activity on the other side of the door increase in frequency and intensity, lost in her own world, nodding off to sleep every few minutes, then shaking herself awake again, caught in her own cycle of consciousness and dreams.

It wasn't until the sun was fully illuminating the room that her head dropped onto her knees, and she fell into a deeper sleep again, only waking up when she felt someone's hand on her shoulder. Before she even opened her eyes, her heart jumped and she caught her breath, hoping she was about to wake up from a terrible nightmare to find Logan beside her, reaching for her in his sleep.

"Rory." It wasn't his voice, though, and she took an extra second to adjust before she opened her eyes to see Colin standing in front of her, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder. "Did you sleep okay?"

"Yeah," she murmured sleepily, rubbing at her eyes. "What time is it?"

Colin looked at his watch. "Almost nine," he said.

"What a weird night," Rory said, stretching again. "I don't think I slept for more than two hours at a time. I was awake to watch the sunrise," she told him, staring out the window. "It was actually really beautiful to see over the river."

Colin smiled wearily, the discomfort of sleeping on the floor clearly evident in his face. "Hey—can I talk to you for a second" he asked.

Rory sat up straighter and pulled the blanket around herself again. "Sure."

He didn't say anything for a few seconds, playing with the hem of his t-shirt, immediately worrying Rory—this kind of discomfort wasn't like Colin at all. "Colin," she asked, placing a hand on his forearm. "What's wrong?"

"What's going to happen with this?" he blurted out.

Rory looked at him, confused. "Um, I don't know. The doctors haven't told us how long it'll be, or what kind of rehab he'll need, or... what."

"No," Colin interrupted her. "I know that. I mean... we all have school—we have classes, you have the paper, exams are coming up, we all have papers to write. Logan, Finn, and I are all supposed to graduate this year; you're still trying to get back on track after last semester. Not to mention the fact that we can't sleep on the hospital floor and the chairs in here forever, and you, at least, have family that will want to see you sometimes..."

Rory was silent, looking at her feet. "So," she started in a tiny voice, "you think that we should all just go back to New Haven and leave him here?"

"No!" Colin interjected loudly, causing Finn to stir in his sleep. "No," he repeated more quietly, emphatically. "I don't like the thought of leaving him here any more than you do. Rory, Logan's like a brother to me. And I know that you still sometimes think that we just egg each other on to do stupid things and that we're just rich party boys, but..."

"I don't think that!" Rory protested. Colin looked at her pointedly. "Well, not always," she clarified.

"But," Colin repeated, cutting her off, "we've gotten each other through a lot. These guys are the closest thing to family that I want to associate myself with. And trust me—I'm not abandoning Logan any more than you are. We just need to think about what we can do."

"I'm sticking around," Rory said stubbornly. "I'm not leaving him—I'm not just walking away because it's hard."

"I know," Colin assured her. "You... you're amazing for him. And we want you to stick around. But you need to finish your classes—you need to write your papers and take your exams. I'm going to stand in Logan's stead and tell you that he's not going to let you forfeit another semester because of him."

"But—"

"No. You need to realize, Rory, that you're not the only one here who loves Logan enough to stick around." Colin laughed self-deprecatingly. "Loves him. He'd have my head if he heard me talking like that, but it's true—I love the guy, and I'm not leaving, either. Neither is Finn. Okay? We're here, too. You don't have to try and do it by yourself."

Jess' words from the night before came flooding back to Rory. _And don't try to be strong. You'll just make it worse. If you want to cry, cry. If you want to yell, that's okay too, but don't try to be strong for everyone else. It's not your job. _It seemed like everyone was trying to get the point across to her—this was a team effort, whether she liked it or not. This, as unconventional as it may be, was family. Rory, Colin, and Finn, and even, in a way, Jess; getting through it somehow.

Rory took a deep breath. "Okay," she said. "Okay."

Colin reached out again and squeezed her hand lightly, smiling. "We'll be okay," he said.

"Yeah," Rory said, trying desperately to convince herself. She took a few more breaths, trying to wrap her mind around everything, and then decided to switch trains of thought slightly. "So, how were you thinking this would work?" she asked.

Well," Colin said, leaning back and switching from big-brother mode into problem-solver mode, "Finn and I were talking last night about sub-letting an apartment near here so that someone can be here until Logan wakes up, and then after that, until he's finished rehab and can go back home, however long that is. We were thinking of finding someplace close enough to shower, keep some food, have a few changes of clothes... spend the night, so we don't have to sleep in these chairs all the time. We think that if we work our class schedules right, at least one of the three of us can be in the city almost all the time, and we can pretty much all be here on weekends."

He ran a hand through his hair, and his voice was stronger than Rory had heard it in a long time—almost like he was detaching himself, but she knew that wasn't the case. This wasn't detachment; it was sacrifice. "If anything changes, we can all be here within two hours, tops, and we'll stay in constant communication about everything. When Honor and Josh get back, we'll let them know what we're thinking, and we'll see how they want to fit into all of it. I'm not counting on anything besides the hospital bills from Mitchum and Shira—if they haven't come so far, they're not going to be around for anything..."

He continued outlining the plan, and his confidence reminded Rory of her own love of planning and lists, and it made her feel more secure than she had felt since getting the first phone call.

A few hours later, when they had all been asked to wait in the hall again, Rory excused herself from the boys and took out her phone to make a call. "Mom?"

"Hi, babe," Lorelai greeted her daughter with a sympathetic tone. "Any news?"

"Well," Rory began, glancing down the hall toward Logan's room, "they won't tell us much, because we're not family. Which I think is pretty stupid, because none of his family is here, so if they're not telling us, and the Huntzbergers aren't here, no one actually knows what's going on. All we know is that he's in pretty serious condition, but he should be okay. The doctor was really nice, though; he said it could be a few days or a week before Logan wakes up."

"Mmm." There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "Rory, have you thought at all about how you're going to do this? You can't be in New York all the time. You still have school, and the paper... I don't want to tell you to leave Logan in a situation like this, but you have to think about your own responsibilities, too."

"I know, Mom." Rory was infinitely glad that she had a plan when her mother brought this up. "I thought about that, actually. Colin and Finn and I all want to stay here for Logan, but we all have school. They're supposed to graduate this year, too, so they can't be here all the time. So we've thought about getting a temporary apartment near here, just some place to keep some clothes, shower, and sleep in actual beds. Between all of us, someone should be able to be here most of the time, and it's only a few hours from New Haven, so it won't be that big a deal to travel back and forth. And that way, we can be around for as long as it takes—weeks, months… it's all open ended, but at least this way, we've got a place to start."

Lorelai sighed. "Sweets, I know you seem to have it all figured out, but how are you going to actually do this? You can attend classes, sure, but how are you going to handle your responsibilities while spending every free moment in New York? And how are you going to afford the apartment? Those guys probably haven't even thought about the money, but how are you going to do that, unless you ask your dad for money? And while I'm sure he'd be happy to give you anything you ask for, I know you, and I know you wouldn't be comfortable with that."

"Right," Rory said flatly. She felt a surge of defensiveness, and she had to hold herself back from yelling at her mother.

"Honey, I'm not trying to ruin your plans, I'm just trying to make sure you've thought about everything before you make a decision like this."

"Mom, the decision has already been made. I'm not leaving Logan alone while he's unconscious, if the situation were reversed, I'd want him to go to school and do his work, but I'd still want him with me as often as he could. I want—no, I _need_ to be with him through this. I'm sorry you don't understand, but that's just the way this is," she snapped the last few words.

"Okay, Rory, I'm sorry. I do understand, and I know this is important to you. I just don't want you to take on too much, that's all."

Rory pushed her bangs off her forehead and leaned against the wall. "I know, Mom," she acquiesced. She was too tired to fight anymore. There was silence for a few minutes, then Rory remembered she had to ask a favor. "Mom, can you do something for me? I need some clothes here... I was wearing the dress from the wedding for a while, and then I found a t-shirt and sweatpants at a store, but I could really use some of my clothes, and a few other things, too. Can you send them down here? FedEx or something?"

"Of course, honey," Lorelai said. "I'll send someone from the Inn on a little trip. Which hospital are you at?"

"You don't have to do that, Mom, just ship it, don't make anyone go out of their way," Rory protested.

"It's a done deal, missy, just give me the address."

Rory rattled off the name and location of the hospital. "Thanks, Mom."

"Hey, it's what I'm here for," Lorelai said gently. "I love you."

"I know," Rory said, smiling a little. "I love you, too, Mom," she responded before hanging up, closing her phone as she walked back to where the boys were waiting, just as Colin was hanging up his phone.

"I made some phone calls," he announced, rubbing the back of his neck. "I found a short-term, furnished apartment—it's got two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a little kitchenette. It's only a few blocks over, and it's ours as soon as we want it."

Rory breathed a sigh of relief. She had never been so grateful for their connections and the fact that any of them could pull innumerable strings at any given moment, getting almost anything they wanted. "Colin, you're a lifesaver," she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck impulsively. He squeezed her back, and when she stepped back, she said, "My mom's sending some of my things, but I should get some things from the apartment—I don't have any of my books, or my laptop, or anything for the paper."

"Well," Colin said thoughtfully, "maybe one of us needs to go back to New Haven and bring back some of everyone's stuff."

"Who needs to be back at class first?" Rory asked. "I've got a class on Tuesday morning, and I should check in at the paper soon. I'll call in tonight and get things covered for tomorrow, but I do need to go in and get people organized to cover however long I'm gone for."

"I've got one tomorrow morning," Finn said. "I was planning to be still drunk in Costa Rica, but I can make the supreme sacrifice and go to class, for your sakes."

"I've got a class tomorrow, too," Colin offered, "but not until late afternoon. Now, the real question is, Rory, do you trust Finn in your apartment?"

They all laughed, and Finn raised his eyebrows at Rory as she pretended to deliberate. "Well... I think the only thing I'd be worried about would be the liquor cabinet. But, since that's not mine anyways... as long as Finn behaves, I don't mind."

"That's a mighty big risk you're taking," Colin said. "Are you sure you don't want to get someone else, or get it yourself?"

Rory grinned. "I think it'll be okay. I'll stop by and get anything he misses."

"And tomorrow's soon enough?" Finn asked.

"Hey, we've managed this long without basic hygiene; I don't think another day will make that much of a difference," Colin said.

"We should figure out who's going to be here, too," Rory said, looking around for a piece of paper and a pen.

"What are you doing, love?" Finn asked.

"Making a schedule," Rory replied, distracted, as she continued to search. "Do either of you have a pen?" Colin sighed and handed her a pen that was sitting on the small table beside him with the out-of-date magazines and box of Kleenex, and Rory began scribbling and muttering. "Okay... I have to be at class on Tuesday and Wednesday... I think I can swing Thursday, at least this week; Friday, I've only got a morning class, so I can leave here early in the morning, and then come back that evening..." she paused. "What about you two?" she asked, not looking up.

They didn't answer, and Rory finally looked up to see them sitting across from her, shoulders together, staring at her in disbelief. "What?" she asked indignantly.

Finn shook his head. "Nothing, love," he said, laughing.

Rory briefly considered sticking out her tongue at them, but decided against it as a thought struck her. "How much is rent going to be?" she asked.

Colin and Finn glanced at each other nearly imperceptibly before Colin answered, "Nothing."

Rory sat up straighter and crossed her arms over her chest. "Liar," she retorted.

"Rory..." Finn protested.

"No," Rory said firmly. "How much do I owe for rent?"

"Nothing!" Colin repeated more vehemently.

Rory sighed loudly, nearly stomping her feet in frustration. "Stop babying me!" she exclaimed. "I'm not letting you pay for everything."

Colin and Finn exchanged another look. "You want me to take this one?" Finn asked under his breath.

"Be my guest," Colin replied, gesturing broadly with his hand.

"Rory," Finn started. "You're paying some of the bills at yours and Logan's apartment, right?" She didn't reply immediately, and he repeated, "Right?" until she gave a small nod. "And you'll be paying for gas and parking, or train fare, or some way of getting between New Haven and here, right?" Rory nodded again, with less hesitation this time. "And if you're spending your time here, you won't be able to work much—if at all. Right?" This time, he didn't wait for Rory's response. "Rory, we'll cover rent. You're _not_ paying for it, okay?"

Rory made a small noise of protest, and Finn cut her off before she could even form a full word. "You're not. You can buy groceries for the apartment if you absolutely have to pay for something."

Rory snickered. "Do you realize what you're doing, asking a Gilmore to provide groceries? If you'd ever seen my mother's cupboards, you'd realize that since I inherited her cooking skills, there'll be nothing but pop-tarts, Red Vines, a case of soda, and leftover takeout."

"Sounds good to me," Colin said with a grin. "Obviously, you haven't spent much time in our fridge, either. That sounds almost gourmet compared to what we've usually got." They were interrupted by a shrill ringing from Colin's pocket. "Oh, Christ, what now?" he muttered. He checked the phone's display and his annoyance dissipated. "It's Honor," he told them and walked down the hall a bit to take the call.

He came back a few minutes later. "Honor and Josh got a flight last night. There's a lot of connecting, but they should be here tonight at the latest." He sighed deeply, rubbing his eyes.

Both boys had gotten fresh clothes from the drugstore the previous day, but after sleeping on the floor or uncomfortable chairs--that is, if they had slept at all--they were disheveled and their clothes were more than slightly wrinkled. They had dark circles under their eyes, something she had never seen, not even after days of drinking and partying and hardly any sleep. This was taking its toll on all of them. Rory placed a comforting hand on Colin's arm. "When she gets here, hopefully we'll know more."

Dr. Ackerman exited Logan's room, his expression unreadable. "Ah, Miss Gilmore," he greeted.

"Any change?" Rory asked hopefully.

"It's too soon to say," he evaded. "But I'm sure that having the three of you here helps. Mr. McCrea and his partner here have been making sure young Mr. Huntzberger's quite comfortable."

_Partner? _Colin and Finn looked at each other in surprise, then an identical look of amusement appeared on their faces. Finn wrapped his arm around Colin's shoulders. "Yes, well, we work wonders together, isn't that right, darling?"

Rory shook her head and rolled her eyes. She was certain it wasn't the first time they were mistaken for that kind of partners, and she didn't bother to correct the doctor. She thanked him and shoved the boys ahead of her into the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks always to our wonderful beta, **paulanka**!

**Not Even Wishes  
Chapter 6**

The next two days went surprisingly quickly—once there were plans to make and arrangements to take care of, Rory felt much less helpless, and even working in Logan's room felt more normal. If she got distracted enough, she could almost pretend that his attention was elsewhere, or that he was working on something else or sleeping—that they were living side-by-side, taking comfort in each other's mere presence.

Besides, as much as she would love for life to stop because he was injured, it didn't, and after the first horrific day, Rory knew she needed to keep her own life going. It was nowhere near getting her own life back to "normal," because she knew that wouldn't happen for a very long time, but she needed, even if she didn't want, to start thinking about going back to school and dealing with the hectic schedule that was sure to come of that.

The first priority was the paper—Rory knew that Bill would be only too happy to take over the primary editorial duties for a few weeks, and he had done an admirable job in her unexpected absence. Even so, she warned him that she would be in the office at least two days a week, and that she would be on the phone to him every day, beginning that day, getting things ready for Monday's paper. He, surprisingly, didn't complain—Rory had never heard him agree to anything with so little argument or sarcasm—but she wasn't about to question it. Instead, she pulled out the notebook that she had bought at the drugstore with all her scribbled notes in it, realizing yet again that it was definitely time to get some of her things—she needed more than the bare necessities that had come with her in that initial middle-of-the-night rush.

Logan's room remained in a fluid state. Rory, Colin, and Finn were in and out all day—at least one of them was with him all the time, but even after two days, there were fewer times when they were all there together. Finn had to go back to New Haven for his class and to get their stuff; Colin was working out the details of their apartment; Rory was doing as much work as she could without any of her books. She had to make an emergency trip to the Barnes and Noble on 86th to get a few books to read—one double copy of a textbook, just so that she could feel like she was doing _something_, and a few novels, because she needed something to focus on that she didn't feel like she had to think about.

As often as possible, she tried to time her walks and errands with the doctors' examinations, leaving the room only when she needed to. She knew, logically, that they didn't need her out of the room for the hour and a half that it took her to run to the bookstore, browse, and come back, but at the same time, she felt slightly less guilty about staying away for so long if she had been kicked out in the first place. It gave her a chance to get some air and exercise, and if she didn't let herself think too hard, it didn't feel as much like abandonment as it could. Late Monday morning, when the doctors needed the room vacated again, Rory decided to take a walk while she hashed out the details for Tuesday's issue with Bill.

She started heading towards the coffee shop she had found earlier, wandering a little bit off the most direct route as she explored the neighborhood, walking past rows of brownstones and apartment buildings, a playground and tennis courts, a church and an elementary school, and a tiny movie theatre. It crossed her mind that she should try and find the building where Colin had found the apartment, but she had forgotten to get the address before she left, and her conversation with Bill was pulling her back to reality by the time she found herself in the crowded coffee shop, grumbling under her breath at the lack of empty tables.

She finished the phone call and paid for her coffee and muffin, then sat on a bench outside Gotham City, sipping her coffee while she tried to balance her notebook on her lap and write down the main points of the phone call. After a few minutes of catching either her coffee or her notebook just before it fell, and picking up her pen from the ground, though, she was about to give up when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Rory!"

Rory sighed. "Hi, Paris. What's up?"

"This list you left on my voicemail makes no sense," Paris complained. "I have no idea what you want me to send back with Tweedledum, here, and for some reason, he's anxious to get your stuff and go."

Rory heard Finn's voice in the background. "Rory, love, just tell her that I can pick out your stuff for you!"

Rory laughed. "You're at the apartment with Finn?"

"Yes," Paris said sharply. "I'm in your apartment with Finn. Now are you going to tell me what to send with him, or are you going to let him find it for himself?"

"No!" Rory said, laughing. "I love you, Finn, but I don't trust you in my dresser."

Paris' voice was muffled as Rory heard her pass the message along, and then there was a scuffle, and the next voice on the line was Finn's. "Rory, love, will you please tell her that I don't have to sit on the couch with my hands folded in my lap as long as I'm in your apartment?"

Rory laughed. "Maybe that's the best way to keep you out of trouble," she teased.

"Rory..." Finn whined, "just tell her what to send. I think I'm going to have a coronary if I spend too much time alone with her."

There was another scuffle, and Paris' voice was the next one Rory heard. "_He's_ going to have a coronary? Does he even know what that means? Just tell me what you want, Rory."

Rory laughed again, thankful for the light-hearted diversion. Paris and Finn. Why hadn't anyone thought of putting those two in a room before to see what happened? It was, Rory found, the most amusing entertainment she'd been privy to all day.

She directed Paris through her things, telling her which books to send, where her laptop was, which clothes she wanted, and where the toiletries were. Once Finn was busy amusing himself at the pool table (he was the only person Rory knew who could play a full game with an imaginary opponent), Paris calmed down, only muttering about his inanity every time she walked past him, instead of constantly sniping at him as he followed her around the apartment. Rory had always thought the pool table was a little too bachelor-pad-esque for her, but she had to admit that she had never been more grateful for it than at that moment. A few minutes of "The Finn and Paris Show" were beyond entertaining, but if she had to listen to them sniping at each other the entire time, Rory probably would have just given up on the whole idea of having any of her things before she went and got them herself.

Fifteen minutes later, Paris had a backpack and messenger bag packed, and Rory could hear her yelling at Finn in the background, telling him that he needed to stop playing and get back to New York.

"Paris," Rory said into her phone. Paris ignored her, continuing to rail at Finn. "Paris!" she yelled, hoping to get the other girl's attention.

"Don't think I'm finished with you," Paris said, slightly muffled, then "What?" came across the line.

"I'll let you finish yelling at Finn in peace," Rory said. "Thanks for doing this."

Paris' tone softened. "Well... you know I wouldn't put up with him in an enclosed space for just anyone."

"I know," Rory replied. "Thanks, Paris. I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Paris said, slightly brusquely. "And..." she paused. "I hope Logan's okay."

Rory smiled. "I'll tell him. Now," she said, after a short pause. "Go be mean to Finn if you must, but keep him in one piece. I'd kind of like him to get back here." She flipped the phone closed, laughing to herself. "I can't wait to hear about that one when he gets back," she muttered, turning the phone over in her hand as she walked, turning a corner that took her back in the general direction of the hospital, letting the warm spring sunshine wash over her.

On impulse, she flipped the phone open again and dialed quickly. "Hey," she said when she was connected.

"Hey yourself," Jess answered. "You sound calmer."

"I am... sort of. We've kind of gotten things figured out, at least for the time being, and Logan's sister will be here tonight so we should know more about his condition and stuff."

"Are you holding up all right?"

Rory paused and thought about it. "Yeah, I am. It helps to concentrate on what needs to be done."

"I know the feeling."

They were silent for a moment, and then Rory spoke again. "It's kind of weird, you know? I mean, I can make lists and schedules and plans for every minute, and I can try everything I know to make it make sense, but it's not going to change anything. You know? This isn't a decision that I can make with a pro-con list, because the decision has already been made, and I just have to jump in and start swimming. This whole thing is kind of surreal—I still feel like it's not actually happening."

"I feel that way about most of my life most of the time," Jess admitted.

"This morning, right before I woke up, I could have sworn I was—um, not there." Rory cut herself off before she said "in bed with Logan," abruptly realizing who she was talking to, aware that, while he might be willing to be her confidant in this, he definitely didn't want to hear about her being in bed with Logan, for any reason.

"Funny how your brain does that," Jess commented. "It's still sometimes a surprise when I actually open my eyes and find myself in my apartment, and everything about what my life actually is comes back to me. It's not a bad surprise," he added, "but I'm not where I think I'll be."

"Where do you think you are?" Rory asked, innocent curiosity in her voice.

"Anywhere but Philly. Sometimes Stars Hollow, sometimes New York, sometimes Liz' old place."

"Sometimes, before I wake up," Rory confided, "I still feel like I'm a little girl sleeping in the shed at the Independence Inn with my mom. I always used to wake up before her, and I'd lie there with this beat-up old bear in my arms, and listen to her breathing. We were so close to each other that I could hear every movement, and I could always tell what she was doing—if she was turning over, if she flipped from her right side to her left, if she pushed the blanket down with her feet—by what it sounded like."

"It didn't keep you awake?" Jess asked.

Rory thought for a second, and then smiled softly. "No, actually, when we moved into our house, I couldn't sleep for the first few nights. I know, it's kinda pathetic. I was eleven, and I shouldn't have been scared to sleep by myself, but I never really had, and it was just too quiet."

Maybe that's why she had adjusted so quickly to sleeping in the same bed as Logan, Rory realized. She'd never quite broken herself of the habit, and even though she'd learned to sleep by herself, she always slept more deeply if someone else was in the room with her—if she could hear someone else's breath and movements.

Jess laughed. "Yeah, I had the same problem in Stars Hollow," he was saying when she began paying attention again, "but for entirely different reasons."

"Did you sleep better when you went back to New York?" Rory asked. "Did the noise make it easier again?"

"Not really," Jess said slowly, as if he was trying to recall those months. "I was just starting to get used to the quiet, and I went back to the noise, and then nothing worked. I don't think I slept soundly for at least six months."

As they talked, Rory wandered back toward the hospital, finding herself in Logan's room which was quiet and empty, with the boys still somewhere else and the doctor already gone. She sat down on her chair, eyes fixed, as always, on Logan's still face and closed eyelids. It looked so much like sleep, and yet nothing like sleep at all, and Rory wondered what, exactly, was going on behind his eyes. What did Logan think he was going to wake up to? In that moment before he opened his eyes, where would he be?

"Sometimes," she said, taking the conversation back to a lighter tone, "I think I'm going to wake up in my dreams. And there are some very weird ones, too—but still, I think I'm going to wake up and be flying a plane, or… did I ever tell you about the dream where Madeleine Albright was my mother?"

Jess laughed. "No, you didn't. That would be something strange to wake up to."

"Yeah," Rory grinned. "I wasn't sure whether to be flattered that all of a sudden I apparently had these amazingly intelligent genes, or to be devastated that we weren't the same size any more, so I couldn't borrow Mom's clothes."

"Sometimes," Jess began, "I'll think I'm going to wake up in some place I've never been, with someone I've never woken up with."

The corners of Rory's mouth turned up slightly as she remembered her own mornings, especially in that first semester of Yale, waking up, expecting Jess to be beside her and being disappointed, even in her sleep, that he wasn't, even though there was no precedent for the expectation.

"I know what you mean," she said. "It's not really even a dream—it's just that your brain wishes so hard for something that it forgets it's not real. And during the day, you can remind yourself otherwise, but when you're asleep..." her voice trailed off, and they sat in silence again.

It was one of those moments that she would never be sure of, but Rory was fairly certain that they were thinking the same thing. If she was thinking about Yale, she would bet anything that he was thinking about that year, too—that year of "where is he," and "why can't I move on?" and "why does he keep appearing in my life?"—and it suddenly felt like dangerous ground. Dreams about Madeleine Albright and sleeping in the noise of the sirens were one thing; dreaming about each other was another thing altogether, and she wasn't going to cross that line.

"Anyway, I should let you go," she said, allowing herself to be anchored to the room by Logan's monitors and his still presence on the bed. "I don't want to keep you from work or anything."

"Yeah, well..." Jess cleared his throat. "I'm glad you're doing better."

"Yeah, I'm getting there. Thanks, Jess." Again, Rory felt that word was far too simple for how grateful she felt to have him be there for her through this.

"It's fine," he said softly. "I'll talk to you later, okay?" Jess had never been one for drawing out the end of a conversation, and before she could say goodbye, Rory heard the soft click on the other end of the line.

"'Bye," she said quietly as she shut the phone and stuffed it into her pocket, getting comfortable in her chair beside Logan's bed and rubbing her thumb back and forth across his knuckles. "Did I ever tell you about the shed my mom and I lived in when I was a little girl?" she began. "It was our place—our first home, and it wasn't much to look at, but she made it the most beautiful and magical place I could imagine…"


	7. Chapter 7

bAuthors' Notes/b Monday crept up on us this week...sorry for the delay. As always, thanks to bpaulanka/b for the wonderful job she does as our beta.

centerbNot Even WishesbrChapter 7/center/b "Are you sure you didn't tell them that someone would meet them at the airport?" Rory asked, checking her watch again. 6:45 p.m. "Maybe they're waiting for us there."

"Positive," Colin replied, checking his own watch, and then glancing at the clock on the wall.

"I thought they'd be here at least an hour ago, though," Rory complained, stretching her hands above her head. "Should we call Honor's cell?"

"She said she'd call if there were any problems," Colin reminded her. "Maybe she just got stuck in customs or something like that."

"But she's a Huntzberger!" Rory protested. "If there was ever a time to use her name to get out of something, this is it!"

"Calm down," Finn soothed. "They'll be here soon."

"Well, it's not soon enough," Rory grumbled under her breath. Colin and Finn caught each other's eyes and exchanged a look, which just made Rory that much more upset.

Rory seethed at their apparent lack of sensitivity. She had been fine with Honor's absence, knowing that she was on her way back, and she had even gotten some work done and felt as close to normal as she could get for most of the day. But now, knowing that Honor was an hour later than she said she would be, and that she was presumably within a few miles of the hospital, Rory was getting anxious. Honor could get them more information, and Rory was tired of being kept in the dark.

The room was silent, save for the creaking of Finn's chair, the tapping of Rory's nails on Logan's bed-rail, and Colin's sighs every few seconds. The tension covered the room like a blanket, thicker than it had been since their first few hours of anxious uncertainty as they waited, feeling like they were waiting for an ultimatum, even though Logan's condition hadn't changed since earlier that day.

Everything that Rory had tried to push aside while she was working came flooding back in the silence and the interminable waiting—the guilt, the sadness, the fear, the blame, the worry, the anger. All the emotions that she had tried so hard to ignore—everything that she had told Jess she was fine with—were suddenly overwhelming her, and she had to consciously plant her feet on the floor to keep herself in the room.

It was easy, in the moments of overwhelming love, to say that she was going to stay with this; it was a different story when she wanted nothing more than to forget about it all and get away. This was too much—this tension with Colin and Finn; this waiting, waiting, waiting; the frustration of wanting information and getting nothing; the feeling of helplessness that overcame her every time she looked at Logan's eyelids and realized that she was starting to forget what his eyes looked like when they looked into hers. She wanted to stay, though. More than she had ever wanted anything, she wanted to be there when he woke up. She wanted to be around in all the ways that his family had never been, and in all the ways that her mother had always been.

Rory sighed, drawn back into the moment by the noises of the room—the beeping and sighing and humming that had become the soundtrack to her days and the lullaby that rocked her into short, restless naps. iHow much longer/i she wondered again, looking at her watch.

Short, staccato footsteps beat down the hallway, and all three of them looked up towards the door, hoping that the change in sound signaled Honor's arrival. When Honor appeared in the doorway, Rory nearly cried with relief as she launched herself out of her chair and met Honor halfway to the door in a hug. Finn and Colin joined them, hugging Honor as she extracted herself from Rory's embrace, and Josh appeared in the doorway a few seconds behind her.

"We're so glad you're finally here, love," Finn said, holding her at arm's length, then kissing her on the cheek.

"How is he?" Honor asked, wrapping an arm around Rory's shoulder and walking to Logan's bed with her.

"That's what you need to tell us," Colin said, joining them. "They won't tell us anything, since we're not family. We know the very basics."

"Well, where's a doctor when you need him?" Honor asked, turning towards the door and marching out into the hallway.

She was back within five minutes, her expression business-like. "Amazing what the Huntzberger name will do. The doctors were practically quaking when I told them who I was!"

"So what'd you find out?" Rory asked, unsure if she wanted to know the answer. When everything was vague, she could pretend Logan was much better off than he probably was, for the simple reason that she didn't know. And as much as she couldn't stand not knowing, she didn't know how she would feel if it was much worse than she had thought.

"He's got a concussion and some broken ribs—six, actually. A busted knee—he won't be playing basketball for a ivery/i long time." Honor shook her head. "My brother is so stupid," she muttered, brushing a stray hair back from her face. "And he had some internal bleeding and a collapsed lung, but they performed emergency surgery to fix it." Her voice shook slightly on the last part. "But they say he'll be fine. He's unconscious right now, but they're not that worried. They said it's natural, and it's nothing to be too concerned about."

"Do you believe that?" Colin asked.

"I didn't want to, but I think they were scared of me, and they wouldn't dare tell me anything but the truth," Honor replied. Rory let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. It was as bad, and worse, and better than she had thought.

"Now," Honor turned to the boys and they withered under her big-sister glare, "let's discuss exactly how drunk you were when you were doing this."

"Honor—" Colin tried to protest.

"No," she cut him off. "I don't care. You're always pulling stupid stunts, and that's fine. That's just you. But this was the worst one of all. I can't believe you'd all be so stupid! And careless," she continued. "You want to jump off a cliff? Fine, go for it! Just make sure you're not going to kill yourselves first! Figure everything out, don't be drunk when you make the plans, don't be drunk when you do the jumping. God!" She started to pace back and forth between the two boys, who had the decency to look chagrined. "I'm surprised any of you remembered to pull the rip cord on your parachutes. I'm not surprised Logan is laying here in the hospital. I'm just surprised it's only him. You could have died. Any of you." She tried to hold her anger, but her voice cracked.

Tentatively, Josh came up beside Honor and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, murmuring to her in a low voice. She turned to him, burying her face in his neck, and he rubbed small circles on her back as her shoulders heaved with sobs. Rory, Colin, and Finn stood silently, half-watching the heartbreakingly intimate moment, half holding back their own emotions, and Rory was surprised that she felt jealous—ishe/i wanted someone to hold her and rub her back while she cried it all out. After a few minutes, Honor composed herself and turned back to face everyone. "I'm still mad at you," she told them, running a finger under each eye to make sure her makeup wasn't running too badly.

"We know," Finn said, looking sheepishly at his shoes.

Rory couldn't help but agree with Honor. It was something she hadn't thought much of since she heard about the accident, since she had been mostly focused on Logan, and his condition; focused solely on the present and the future. Honor had brought her back to the reason they were all here. She didn't blame Colin and Finn--no more than she blamed anyone. She could yell at them, berate them, tell them it was their fault, that they should have had his back. She blamed Logan, she blamed herself for letting him go in the middle of a fight, and for letting him do it in the first place. She blamed Finn and Colin for letting their best friend get seriously hurt. She blamed Robert for not having the measurements exactly.

When all was said and done, though, blame didn't get them anywhere. They were all still here for the same reason. That would, eventually, have to be dealt with, but now, Rory knew instinctively, wasn't the moment. Honor needed some time with Logan; they all needed time to breathe a collective sigh of relief that they knew more. Rory needed the time to process the new information; the guys needed time to realize how serious it was. They all needed the time to let it sink and be thankful that it wasn't worse. Right now, thought, they needed to relax, just a little.

Rory took a deep breath, deliberately choosing to lighten the mood. "How was Greece?" she asked. The others all looked at her as if she had grown a second head, and she shrugged, a 'what?' gesture to the room at large.

"Greece, Rory?" Colin asked.

"We're going to talk about Logan's condition for weeks. Months," Rory explained. "And now that we know more... I don't know—I feel like I can talk about something else now."

Honor smiled slightly at Rory, and Rory had the feeling that Honor knew why she was changing the conversation, and that she would be okay with it, even though she still needed her own time to process. That would come—within minutes, if Rory guessed correctly. Rory was so grateful for the addition of another woman to the mix—as much as she had grown to love the boys, especially in the past few days, she needed a girl around, at least for part of the time.

"Greece was beautiful," Honor said, squeezing Josh's arm. "After all the work of planning the wedding, especially with my mother, it was so good to just leave and let someone else clean up the mess."

"I've always wanted to go to Greece," Rory said. "You'll have to show me pictures—it looks amazing."

"It is. We spent most of the time at a resort hotel, but we did go stay in a little fishing village for a few days, and that was incredible."

"I bet it was," Rory sighed, letting her imagination carry her far, far away—almost envying the fact that Honor had been able to squeeze a few more hours of ignorance out of the situation than she had.

"We were actually planning to go back out there for another few days at the end of the trip," Honor said, warming up to the subject. "There was this beautiful little restaurant, and we just fell in love with the couple who owned it—they were really old, and everyone who worked there—the waiters, the cooks, everyone—was related to them somehow. Kids, grandkids... it was amazing, in the way that a family business is really supposed to be run." The last statement was said without bitterness, to Rory's amazement—she and Honor had never really talked about Honor's feelings about the Huntzberger dynasty, and it surprised her that Honor could compare it to something so… normal, for lack of a better word, without letting her disappointment in her own family show.

Honor was still talking. "I wish we'd had time to do that—I mean, I had to get back as soon as I could, especially since I knew that Mom and Dad wouldn't come"—at this, a slight trace of bitterness crept into her voice, but vanished again as soon as the words "Mom and Dad" were out of her mouth— "but if Logan was awake, there'd be hell to pay for making me cut things short!"

Rory felt the blood drain from her face as the words hung between the five of them. If Logan was awake. If Logan was awake, Rory knew, both she and Honor would go hoarse from yelling at him—in between hugs and tears, of course. But he wasn't, and while she was somewhat used to it after the past few days, she didn't like it any better, and even finding out exactly what was wrong didn't help as much as she thought it would. In a way, it helped, and only time would tell whether it made distracting herself easier, but she still had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach—a rock that refused to budge and made her constantly nauseated. She was getting used to it, though—that was the upside, if there was one. It didn't feel nearly as oppressive as it had; now, it was just a constant presence.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rory saw Honor and Josh "talking" from the other side of Logan's bed, in that unspoken language of eye contact, subtle head nods, and minimal gestures, and Josh moved towards the door, after giving Honor one last squeeze around her waist and a light kiss on the lips.

"Guys?" Honor said softly, moving closer to the bed and taking Logan's hand. Colin and Finn looked up, instantly responding to the tone in her voice. "Can you show Josh around a bit? The hospital, the good coffee shops... things like that?"

"Trying to get rid of us already?" Finn joked weakly, already grabbing his sunglasses.

Honor's lips turned up in a close approximation of a smile, although it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Just for a few minutes," she said, sitting down in the chair that Colin had vacated.

As he pushed the chair closer to Honor so she could sit, Colin wrapped his arm around her shoulders and dropped a light kiss on her cheek. "I'm glad you got here," he said, straightening up and patting Logan's arm on the way past as he walked towards the door, where Finn and Josh were already waiting.

Rory met Honor's eyes, which reflected the clouds she saw in her own, and smiled an encouragement as she picked up her purse and made her way across the room to the door. Honor's hand on her wrist stopped her. "Wait."

"Do you want me to bring something back for you?" she asked, as the boys slipped out the door and closed it gently behind them.

"No," Honor said, her voice barely audible. "Just stay here, too, okay?"

"Okay," Rory said, pulling her chair up on the other side of Logan's bed, interlacing the fingers of his other hand with her own.

Honor dabbed at the tears that were coming to her eyes again. "Can't seem to stop crying," she admitted. "Ever since Colin called...and now, seeing him, it's..."

"I know." Rory reached across Logan to briefly squeeze Honor's arm. "Me too. I've never seen him be still for so long. He's even a restless sleeper."

Honor smiled through her tears. "He was always like that, even when he was little—always running around everywhere." She paused, looking over Logan and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. "He's so fragile," Honor said softly. "You wouldn't think it, even if you knew him pretty well, but he is really fragile."

iFragile/i Rory thought to herself. She had never really thought of Logan like that. Physically, sure, he was fragile, but so was everyone. She actually thought he was remarkably strong, not only that he was going to make it through this, good as new, but in other ways. He was the strong one in their relationship. He fought for them, forcing her to realize what was going on. She was always afraid, scared of confrontation, and second-guessing everything. That's why it hurt so much to see him like this. It wasn't just the stillness; it was that her Logan, who Rory always saw as so strong, was lying here, broken.

And here was his sister, the only other woman in the world who loved him as much as she did, who knew him better than she did, saying how fragile he was. It shook Rory to realize that they could see such different sides of him—she knew, deep down, that he couldn't be strong all the time, but it was easier to pretend when she didn't have the first-hand stories of his vulnerability.

Rory looked at Honor, saw the love and worry in her expression. "You're such a good big sister—he's so lucky to have you," she said, verbalizing for the first time what she had thought ever since she first met Honor. Every time the four of them had gone on a double date, or she had gone shopping with Honor, or they'd talked on the phone, or Logan had mentioned a conversation with her, Rory had been profoundly grateful that he had such a normal relationship with his sister. It was the kind of relationship, full of teasing and love, that she'd always pictured siblings having, and she knew that Logan loved his big sister fiercely.

She thought of the few encounters she had had with the senior Huntzbergers and wondered, not for the first time, how Logan might have turned out if he hadn't had Honor to love him like she did. In many ways, Rory felt like she owed Honor for more than she even knew to be thankful for.

"You're so sweet, Rory." Honor tilted her head to the side, looking fondly at Rory. "You're really good for Logan, you know that? He's changed a lot in the past year."

Rory nodded; she agreed with that statement whole-heartedly. He really had changed for the better in the year they had been together, and to be honest, Rory hadn't exactly expected even this much of him when they started dating . The two fell into comfortable silence for a few minutes; the only sounds in the room were the beeping of the monitors and an occasional sniffle from one girl or the other.

"Tell me something about when you two were little," Rory requested suddenly. As well as she knew Logan as he was now, she had just realized she hardly knew anything from his pre-Yale era. Except, of course, his crush on Alyssa Milano, about which she had teased him for ages, and a few stories that she had dragged out of the boys. Those were always macho and full of dare-devilry, though, and Rory wanted to hear about the little boy that Logan had been.

Honor looked up, slightly surprised, then a huge smile crossed her face. "Did he ever tell you about the time he broke his arm?"

"No!" Rory exclaimed. She lightly squeezed Logan's hand. "I thought this was the first time he had broken bones."

Honor laughed. "Please—do you think that he could pull as many stunts as he has without a few injuries?" She gave a small shrug. "I think he's embarrassed about the arm, though. He had to have been about eight or nine, and he was rollerskating."

"Rollerskating?" Rory echoed incredulously. "No wonder he was embarrassed!"

"Oh yeah." A real smile flashed across Honor's face. "Not even rollerblading, either. He found a pair of Mom's four-wheel roller skates in the attic from when she was a kid—you know, the kind you can rent at the roller-rama, or whatever, and he decided that he ihad/i to learn to skate. He used to wear them constantly—all around the house, even though he got chased outside by every single person on staff, as well as Mom and Dad; they were petrified that he would mark up one of the floors. He wore them everywhere—except to school. I managed to get them off his feet for that, and he should be eternally grateful to me. I mean, can you imagine his social prospects if he'd shown up wearing an old pair of white roller skates?" They both laughed.

"But," Honor continued "he tripped over some branch or something in the driveway one day after someone booted him out of the house, and he fell and broke his arm. Mom blamed the gardener, fired him, and then yelled at Logan for being careless." She paused, and Rory found herself feeling indignant and defensive for the little boy with a cast on his arm, being scolded instead of getting an ice cream cone on the way home from the doctor's office. "Anyway, he was in a cast for six weeks and that was the end of the skates."

"Wow." Rory leaned back in her chair, settling into the conversation as they fell into a comfortable rhythm: talking sometimes, sharing stories, laughing and crying together, and often just listening to the quiet in the room, occasionally bringing Logan into the conversation with a, "Right, Logan?" When Josh, Finn, and Colin returned an hour and a half later, that was the picture they walked into, and it was the scene that continued well into the night, until all five of them drifted off, dried tear tracks on their cheeks and small smiles on their faces. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Not Even Wishes  
Chapter 8**

The next few days passed by in a blur. Rory felt like she was always rushing—rushing to class, rushing to the hospital, even rushing back to both apartments, picking up a few things at hers and Logan's, trying to catch a nap for a few hours at the New York apartment—but it helped fill the time. If she was always busy, she didn't have to think about the cold hard reality, and it helped her to numb herself to the uncertainty and the fear that still cast a pall over her. Now, she spent the hours by Logan's side telling him about her classes, the paper, what Colin and Finn were up to, and even what the doctors were saying, although that was always second-hand information, since the doctors still weren't giving information to anyone but Honor.

By Thursday evening, she was trying very hard not to fall asleep while sitting with Logan, trying to study for a final, her laptop sitting on her knees, and stacks of notes spread out on the blankets around his legs. Her eyes had drifted shut for the umpteenth time and a few papers had slipped out of her hand onto the floor when her phone rang, bouncing on the table as it vibrated, startling her. "Hello?" she said distractedly, fumbling with the phone.

"Hi babe," came the greeting on the other end.

Rory settled back in the chair and rubbed her eyes. "Hi, Mom."

"How are you holding up?" Concern tinged Lorelai's voice.

"Um..." Rory's eyes swept around the room, over the few decorations that she and the boys had brought to brighten up the room; the mostly raunchy get-well cards that had come from other members of the Life and Death Brigade; and the piles of books, games, and extra clothes that had accumulated over the week, finally resting on Logan's still form. "I'm... okay."

"Well, I've got someone here who wants to say hi, maybe it'll cheer you up some." Lorelai seemed to be holding the receiver away from her. "Paul Anka, guess who's on the phone? It's Rory!"

Rory smiled as she heard a distinctive "Woof!" over the connection.

Lorelai got back on the phone. "He likes you, you know."

"He's a dog, Mom. How can you tell?"

"I can tell." Lorelai's voice was confident. "He always reacts when I say your name. He knows 'Rory.'"

As if to prove it, Paul Anka let out another bark at the name.

"Only because you trained him," Rory pointed out.

"That doesn't matter," Lorelai protested. "Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in with you. How's Logan?"

"The same." Rory shrugged, curling her body into the chair and tucking her feet up underneath her. "There's no real change. The doctors seem optimistic, though, which is a good thing—though I don't even know if they would tell us if they thought it wasn't good."

"I'm really sorry, sweets. This sucks... is there anything I can do to help?"

"No, not really," Rory sighed, wishing she could tell her differently—wishing there was something anyone could do to make it all go away. "But thanks, Mom."

"Call me if you need anything. I love you."

"I love you, too." She smiled as she closed the phone, holding on to it tightly.

"Hey, Logan," she said, "guess what?" She waited for a response, a habit she had gotten into during their many one-sided conversations, and slid easily into the relaxed, lyrical rhythm of these discussions, a slower rhythm than the conversations she had with anyone else. These moments—the ones when she wasn't studying or on the phone—forced her to slow down, and she made a conscious effort to leave time for Logan to answer her, even though she knew he wouldn't. Somehow, it comforted her to think that he could hear her, and she could formulate his responses in her head, hoping that he was, on some level, responding—and she needed to give him time to say what he wanted to.

"I think my mom doesn't hate you right now," Rory said with a grin, reaching out and taking Logan's hand. "Oh, I know," she added quickly, "you'll both swear up and down that she's just concerned about me and how I'm dealing with it, but I think that, deep down, she's worried about you."

"I really want you two to get along," she said at length, "but you knew that already. I think you're actually really similar, at the heart of it. You could probably do some serious damage if you got on the same side of things." Rory laughed. "Come to think of it, it's probably better that you don't get along too well—for my sanity, anyways. I'll just have to team up with Luke at Christmas dinners and stuff. We'll have to be the sane ones in the family. You know what, though—you should talk to her someday about your family. You know I'll be behind you, if you want to do the whole Huntzberger thing or if you decide to do something else—I'm here either way. None of that is why I love you. But still—you might have a good conversation with her, if you could both stop being stubborn and decide to get along for more than just my sake. She knows what it's like to feel like a disappointment and still build a good life. I'm just saying."

She sobered, squeezing his fingers more tightly. "I'm really worried about her, actually. I don't know exactly what's wrong, but things just aren't right lately. Things with Luke are weird, and if anything happens, it's going to destroy her. I don't know what it'll do to her if things don't work out." She choked up, for the first time in days, crying over something besides Logan, wishing that he was able to wrap his arms around her and let her cry on his shoulder—wanting him to placate her with a meaningless platitude and then let her talk it all out to him, wanting him to make her laugh, or distract her, or do anything to keep her from thinking about the fact that things seemed to be falling apart.

"I met her," Rory said, out of the blue. "April, I mean." She took a deep breath, even though she knew that Logan wasn't going to respond—this part of the conversation still set off the butterflies in her stomach. "I went to Philly to see Jess while you were gone," she confessed, partly glad that she was talking to an unresponsive figure; partly wishing that they could just talk about it and get it over with. "The publishing house he works for was having an open house type of thing, and I really wanted to see what he was doing with his life. I know it sucked for us when he came back last fall, but Logan—I'm so proud of him. He's doing something with his life—something that's really perfect for him—and it really threw me for a loop, because I just... wasn't. I felt like I was sitting there, being useless, and made me remember that I didn't have to be like that," she babbled. "And then I was mad at you when I went to see him this time—maybe I was trying to make you jealous, but then you got in the accident, and now... and that doesn't matter anymore, anyway..." she cut herself off, swiping in frustration at the few tears that were tracking down her cheeks.

"Anyway, I met April. Luke and April were in Philly, too, and it's a really long story how we all got there at the same time, but I met her, and Mom hasn't even met her yet, and I felt so bad about it. She's really cute—April, that is. I think Mom would like her, and she'd like Mom, and maybe even the three of us could have a really great time hanging out, but everything's so complicated, and I don't know where anyone stands on the whole issue, or whose side anyone is on anymore."

By now, Rory was venting full-steam to Logan, who still lay motionless on the bed, his monitors beeping a steady, consistent metronome to her rushing torrent of words. "We shouldn't have to take sides. There should be no 'us versus them' in this situation. Everyone should be trying to make it all work, but suddenly, it's every man for himself. Mom, Luke, April, me... Oh—I met Anna, April's mom, too. A while ago. I told you about that, right? Or maybe not—I don't remember any more."

She leaned forward, resting her head on the blankets beside his chest, wanting nothing more than to burrow in beside him, suddenly feeling very tired. "Why aren't you awake?" she asked plaintively. "Why—Logan, why am I going through all this by myself? I don't want to do it this way anymore, okay? I want us to be a team, but we can't be a team until you wake up and start talking to me again, so please—wake up?"

When Colin and Finn burst into the room, arguing loudly, Rory sat up quickly, wiping away the last of her tears. "Stop it," Colin was saying. "You're wrong, and you're insane."

"I won't argue with the insane part," Finn responded, pulling up a chair, "but I'm not wrong. Rory, love, tell him I'm right."

"Um...why don't you tell me what it is you're talking about," Rory suggested. It was dangerous to agree with either of them without knowing the full story.

"Doesn't matter." Finn waved his hand dismissively.

"Because he knows he's wrong!" Colin insisted.

"What happened?" Rory asked again.

"Just forget it," Colin muttered, sinking into a chair.

Finn reached into a bag and pulled out a stack of magazines, his eyes gleaming. "We found Logan's secret stash. We thought we'd shove it under his mattress here, just like he used to have in his room."

"Secret stash of what?" Rory asked warily.

"Playboys," Colin informed her.

"Excuse me?" Rory's eyes widened. "Logan's got a secret stash of Playboys?"

"From when he was 16 or 17," Colin mused.

"But we thought he might like to have them here," Finn added.

"I don't think he needs them," Rory tried to point out.

The boys broke out into identical grins. "I bet you don't," Finn said, raising his eyebrows mischievously.

"Shut up!" was the response.

"Aha!" Colin crowed. "Ten bucks, Finn!"

Finn fished a bill out of his wallet and handed it over reluctantly. "I thought it would take at least ten minutes," he said with a frown.

"What?" Rory looked between the two of them. "What would take at least ten minutes"  
"I bet Finn that you would tell us to shut up within five minutes," Colin told her, still grinning gleefully.

Rory just shook her head. "You're impossible, and I should know better than to ask when it comes to you two." She reached forward and took Logan's hand in hers again. "You know, Logan, you'd really better come back to us, soon. I don't know how much more of them I can put up with!"

Finn leaned over, whispering something in Colin's ear, which was making his grin grow. "How can we get a life-size picture, though?" Colin asked, and Finn whispered a response. "Of course!" Colin exclaimed. "Tomorrow. It'll be perfect."

"What are you—never mind." Rory decided against asking what they were conspiring. Sometimes it was safer to be left in the dark.

Luckily, a nurse came in and asked the three of them to vacate the room. Rory quickly gathered her things, stuffing them into her bag, hoping that enough of the material would seep in to her mind and she wouldn't completely blank out when it came time for her final.

They settled onto some couches in the waiting room, Rory pulling out her books and the boys sitting on the opposite side of the room, talking about who knows what. She shook her head at them, grinning, and buried herself in her notes, resolving to actually get some studying done during their "banishment" from Logan's room.

That resolution lasted all of about six minutes, though, before her cell phone rang. Honor, she saw, flipping it open.

"Hey," she greeted.

"How's everything going?" Honor asked.

"Well, we're out in the lobby right now," Rory replied. "The doctor's giving us our daily break from being in Logan's room—so I'm trying to do homework, and the boys are giggling and whispering like little girls."

Honor snorted, a slightly unladylike burst of laughter. "Figures."

"How are things getting settled for you?" Rory asked.

Honor sighed. "Even having movers, there's still so much that needs to be done. And I'm trying not to worry about it right now—there are more important things than decorating my apartment—but some of these boxes just need to be taken care of, or they'll drive me crazy!"

"Can't you get movers that unpack it all for you?" Rory asked.

"Yes, but for some reason, Josh wants to do most of it ourselves," Honor griped.

Rory laughed. "That's not bad, usually; it's just that the timing isn't ideal."

"I know. At least we're close enough to come in. We'll be there later this evening," Honor said, "but work isn't going to let me off to be there all the time."

Rory smiled. "It's okay—I understand," she reassured the other girl. "None of us can be here all the time, but we're doing our best."

"How are the goons treating you?" Honor asked. "Are they still being nice?"

"Yeah—they're good," Rory replied. "Going a little stir-crazy sometimes, but they're just worried about Logan. It'll do everyone some good to have a change around here."

"Soon," Honor promised. "Something will happen soon—just hang onto that, okay?"

Rory was about to respond when the call-waiting beeped in her ear. "Hang on a second, okay, Honor?" She pressed the button to switch callers. "Hello?"

"Rory?"

"Hey, Jess. How are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Jess asked. "How's everything going?"

"Hang on just a second." Rory covered the mouthpiece and called over to the two boys. "Hey, guys, which one of you wants to talk to Honor?"

They looked at each other and shrugged, and Colin answered first. "I'll take it," he said.

"Great," said Rory, switching the phone back. "Honor? My other line is beeping, and I should take it. Colin wants to talk to you, though—can you call his phone, and I'll talk to you once I'm finished?"

"Definitely," agreed Honor, disconnecting their call.

Across the room, Colin's phone started ringing, and he picked up and carried on the conversation with Honor as Rory switched back to Jess. "Hey—are you still there?"

"Do you need to go?" Jess asked.

"No—I just had Honor, Logan's sister, on the other line, but she's talking to his friend Colin now, so it's fine." Rory laughed as she continued. "She's one of the only people I know who can talk all three of those boys down from a ledge, shut them up with a look, and make them quiver with fear. That woman is to be feared and admired by all!"

Jess gave a short laugh. "Quite an accomplishment, from what you've told me about them," he commented. "They sound like an interesting group."

"I'm really glad she's back," Rory said more seriously. "It's good to have another girl around the place."

"Is she around all the time now?" Jess asked.

"No, she and Josh—her husband; they were on their honeymoon when the accident happened—are getting settled into their apartment, and they both have work, but they live here in the City, so it's easier for them to get here. Most days, at least one of them is here for a few hours—sometimes longer, sometimes they're both here, sometimes just one--but it's good to have someone from the family around, especially since she's the only one."

"I have to say, Rory, you sure picked a good family to get involved with," Jess commented. "And here I thought that both you and I came from weird, dysfunctional families, but the Huntzbergers seem to be weird in a 'Growing Up Gotti' kind of way."

"Are you comparing my boyfriend's family to the mob?" Rory retorted, then laughed. "Yeah—Mitchum almost fits the bill. Well," she said in mock seriousness, "it was quite a feat, but I think that, just maybe, I've found someone who makes the Gilmores look normal by comparison."

"Speaking of weird, how's it going living with those two friends of his?"

"Really good, actually," Rory said, a slight note of wry tenderness creeping into her voice. "Half the time, they're idiots, but they love Logan, and they make sure I have a chance to take a bit of a break, so I can overlook most of their quirks."

"Well, I'm glad someone's looking out for you," Jess said. "You know I'd do it, but it's probably better that it's someone who actually likes Logan. He'll be happier to see them when he wakes up than he would be to see me."

"Yeah—you probably wouldn't want to be the first face he saw," Rory said, chuckling slightly. "Then again," she added after a moment's thought, "I don't know that Colin or Finn would be the first face I'd want to see, either."

"Well," Jess said lightly, "he'd better be hoping that you're in the room when he opens his eyes."

Rory sobered. "I am too," she said quietly, staring blankly across the room, barely registering Colin and Finn, who were both shouting into Colin's phone at poor Honor.

"Then for your sake," Jess said, "so am I."

A shout from Finn caught Rory's attention, and she saw him yank the phone from Colin's hand, holding it above his head. Colin climbed over the arms of the chair, trying unsuccessfully to take the phone back. Finn stood up on the chair, ducking Colin's wild grabs. Rory rolled her eyes and sighed loudly. "I should go," she told Jess. "Those idiots seem to have forgotten they're in a hospital, and I don't think they know the meaning of the word 'decorum'."

"I'll let you go, then," Jess said. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. Call me if you need me before, though."

"I will, thanks." Rory quickly shut her phone and stuck it in her pocket as she marched across the room and snatched Colin's phone from Finn. "I'm so sorry," she told Honor, glaring at the boys, who were still fighting.

"Don't worry about it," Honor replied. "I'm certainly used to them by now. But I didn't even get to tell you why I was calling—the boys started trying to one-up each other with double entendres before I could talk to them seriously."

"Talk to them seriously?" Rory laughed. "Is that possible?"

Honor chuckled also. "Stranger things have happened. Anyway, I talked to the doctor earlier and things are looking good."

"Oh, really?" Rory's shoulders slumped with relief. "What'd he say?"

"He said that Logan is healing very well, and it shouldn't be long before he wakes up. He's shown 'remarkable progress' in the past few days, considering what he went through."

"Oh, god," Rory whispered as a smile spread across her face and her eyes filled with tears. "So he'll really be okay?"

"Yeah. Listen, I have to go, but I'll be there later tonight, so I'll see you then?"

"I'll be here. Thanks, Honor." Rory closed the phone and started to slip it into her other pocket before she realized that it was Colin's phone. She looked up at the boys who were watching her expectantly.

"Good or bad?" Colin asked.

Rory raised her eyebrows at him and tossed his phone back across the room. "You could have asked her yourself, you know."

"Well, we didn't," Finn brushed it off. "What'd she say?"

"It's good," Rory told them, sniffling slightly. "Honor said the doctors are very impressed with his progress, and they expect him to wake up soon."

The guys looked at each other, visibly relieved. "That's so great." Colin's voice cracked slightly.

"Hey, listen," Rory began, "Why don't you two go off and do whatever it is you were planning earlier," she suggested, suddenly wanting to be alone with Logan.

Colin said something to Finn in a low tone, and Finn whispered back. "We'll be back later," Colin told her, touching her arm briefly as they passed by.

As soon as the nurse vacated the room, Rory took her regular seat by Logan's bed. All thoughts of studying had vanished from her mind, and all she could think was "Soon." She knew that the following months wouldn't be easy, that everything wouldn't be magically better as soon as Logan opened his eyes, but she didn't care—right now, she just wanted to see him awake. Now it was just a matter of waiting, and waiting was always hardest the closer it was to being over. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers. "Logan," she whispered to him. "Hey, you in the bed there," she kidded in a soft voice, "I've had just about enough of this now, you hear me? I think I've been very patient, and you know me—that's quite a feat." Rory squeezed his hand gently, looking over his face for a change—anything besides the same stillness. Was her mind playing tricks on her or did his fingers twitch just then? It had to be a matter of wanting something so badly that she was imagining it was really happening... right? She peered closely at him, and this time she knew it wasn't her mind—his eyes did open a slit. "Logan?" Rory said, her voice cracking. "Come on, open your eyes," she coaxed. "Please?"

Logan's eyes fluttered again, and this time they opened fully. "Ace?" he croaked out.

Rory's face broke into a grin and her tears spilled over. "Oh my god," she said. "You're awake!" Without any regard for the tubes or monitors he was hooked up to, she launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. When she felt his arm move underneath her, she pulled back. "I'm sorry—did I hurt you?" she asked worriedly. "I should have been careful—how do you feel?" She closed her eyes briefly. "Sorry, that was a stupid question." She settled for gripping his hand, her other hand traveling over his arm, his face—she had to keep touching him, now that she knew he could feel it.

Logan blinked a few times, and managed to feebly squeeze Rory's hand. He was still weak, she could tell, and that was only natural, but he was back, really there, and it wasn't a dream. "You're here," he whispered with a faint smile.

Rory wiped her tears impatiently with the back of her hand. "Of course I'm here," she told him. "You really think I would be anywhere else?"

**Authors' notes** Once again, we cannot thank our beta, bpaulanka/b enough. Only the epilogue remains, so we hope you enjoyed this journey as much as we did.


	9. Epilogue

**Authors' Note: **Well, here we are, many weeks later and many chapters longer than we had anticipated! We've had so much fun with this story, sending it back and forth in emails when we were bored at work or late at night when we couldn't sleep, sometimes writing entire chapters in one day; sometimes taking a lot longer when we got stuck. It's been so great to get your feedback, too—thanks for reading, and thanks for letting us know what you think. We really, really appreciate it. And finally, but most importantly, we couldn't have done this without our fabulous beta, **paulanka**, who has polished it up for us and made it all look so pretty! And without further ado, here's the epilogue. Enjoy!

* * *

**Not Even Wishes**

**Epilogue**

The darkness enveloped him like a thick, warm blanket, folding softly around him, bright pinpoints of stars dotting the sky. Logan lay snug in his sleeping bag, watching the stars above him, listening to the quiet whistle of Colin's snore beside him. He couldn't sleep—maybe because of the excitement of a campout, or the sugar buzz of too many toasted marshmallows, but for whatever reason, he was still able to lie perfectly still. His eyes were open, but the night was so thick and dark that if it wasn't for the silhouette against the stars, he wouldn't know where the trees were.

It had been a full day, building forts in the woods, running through the acres of Colin's father's property, climbing trees and running through creeks, having a day to let loose and be the ten-year-old boys that they weren't allowed to be within the bounds of society. At night, though, there was something almost sacred, and even at such a young age, Logan was nearly holding his breath. This was too perfect to disturb, even by a too-loud sigh or a too-strong exhalation. This was peaceful, and no matter how noisy or rowdy or daring they were during the day, he knew to appreciate the silence at night.

The quiet chirp of crickets and the trilling of a lone bird floated to his ears, and a soft breeze brushed over his face, as gentle and light as fingertips caressing his cheek. Had he been a little less afraid of what he might come across on the ground, he might have gotten up and tried to explore a little, but then again, the night was best appreciated from inside the protection of a warm, fleecy sleeping bag.

"Logan," he heard his name whispered urgently from beside him. He turned his head in Colin's direction, but he couldn't see anything, and Colin wasn't responding. "Logan," he heard again, the whispered voice cracking and strained.

Logan tried to twist his body to turn toward the voice, but his sleeping bag was holding him tight, and his arms and legs were trapped in the fabric, pulled tightly so he couldn't move. "Come on, open your eyes," the voice said, becoming more feminine and familiar with every word.

His eyes squeezed shut more tightly, and then forced them open, the small motion expending every bit of effort. Harsh, fluorescent light flooded his eyes, and he snapped his eyelids shut again, protecting himself against the glare. A slight pressure on his hand increased, and he could feel something moving across his hand—something familiar. A touch he was well acquainted with; a soft touch, slightly firm, that evoked those feelings of safety and love and protection. Was he still dreaming?

He forced his eyes open, hoping he would see what he already sensed, and there she was, her blue eyes locked on his, and in that instant that they connected, he saw the relief flood her face.

"Ace?"

Logan watched as Rory's face lit up and she fell on top of him, squeezing. As much as it hurt—and it did, _a lot—_it felt so good to have her arms around him that he didn't care. Gathering his energy, he managed to move his arm—attempting to return her embrace but the second he moved she stood up.

Her hand was running all over his skin, and he couldn't get enough. It was amazing that she was here with him, and he still wasn't completely convinced it was real. Logan had dreamed about her so often, it could be another figment of his imagination. Though none of the dreams had his body hurting this much, and he was never in a hospital... and her touch never felt quite _this _good when it was a dream. "You're here," he whispered, and winced at the effort that speaking took. The look on Rory's face was one of amazement, and Logan was sure he had a similar one on his face. She was gripping his hand tightly and her tears spilled over yet she was grinning widely. He managed to muster up enough strength to squeeze her hand, trying to convey all that he couldn't yet vocalize.

As he looked around the room, he noticed it looked fairly… settled. Lived-in. Lots of cards, flowers, half-droopy balloons, and some stuff from his apartment. The last thing he remembered (that he was pretty sure wasn't a dream) was being loaded into the helicopter. "How—how long?" he managed to ask.

"It's Thursday," Rory replied, "and the accident happened Saturday night. It's been five days—almost a week."

Five days. Logan rolled the thought around in his head. That was a long time to lose. Not just that, but this had to have been hell for Rory, the waiting, the uncertainty. His mind wandered back to the day he left. He and Rory had been fighting, and their goodbye had been stilted and cold. He knew she had been hurt, and he hated that he had left her that way and then put her through even more with this. "I'm sorry," he told her in a low voice.

"Sshh," she cut him off. "Save your strength. Just don't you ever, _ever_ do something like this to me again. You understand?" Her tone was sharp, but her voice was shaking. "I thought I was going to lose you. I'm just... I'm so glad you're awake."

The tears rolled uninhibited down her face, dropping onto his face as she leaned into him, and he could taste the saltiness as they fell onto his lips. "Ace," he whispered again, his voice growing slightly stronger the more he exercised it. She placed a finger on his lips, trying to cut him off, but he rolled his head back from side to side as far as he could. "I..." he swallowed painfully, trying to rid his mouth of the dry, cottony feeling. "I love you."

Her tears came again, harder, her face lit from within by a radiant glow, her smile beaming through the redness and snotty mess. "I thought I'd never hear you say that again," she sobbed, placing a palm on his cheek and caressing it.

Her phone rang just as she leaned in to kiss him lightly, startling both of them, making her jump back, and both of them giggled. Well, Rory giggled; Logan smiled, a dry chuckle escaping from his throat. His eyes followed her across the room as she flipped open the phone and spoke to the person on the other end, pacing excitedly as she talked, nearly bouncing on her toes. He couldn't hear everything she was saying, but her eyes were lit, and he definitely caught the loud, excited, "He's awake!" that threatened to wake the rest of the ward, if anyone could possibly still be unconscious after that.

She sobered slightly as the conversation went on, casting glances over at him, but it was over soon, and she took her seat at his side again, tucking the phone into her pocket.

"That was Honor," she said, a smile playing on the edges of her lips. "She'll be here to see you as soon as she can."

Honor... the thought of his big sister made Logan smile, and then it faded slightly as he thought of the scolding she was sure to have in store for him. He would be so damn glad to see her, though. He looked around the room again, taking in all the extra items for a second time, trying to place them. Rory couldn't have been here by herself the entire time, could she? No, she had school, and...

His forehead creased as he tried to think through the logistics of the past week, trying to remember Rory's schedule and who else was around, but the details evaded him, teasing at the edges of his memory.

"What's wrong?" Rory asked, concerned.

Logan caught her gaze, letting that settle him and anchor him to the room. "Who... who else is here?" he asked.

"Mostly Colin, Finn, and me," she replied. "They're out doing... actually, I have no idea what they're doing, and I'm not sure I want to know, but we've been here all week. Honor and Josh have been in and out ever since Monday night, and a few people from the Brigade have dropped in or sent cards."

"You've spent all week with Colin and Finn?" Logan croaked, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face, despite the way it stretched the bruises and scabs. "I'm sorry."

Rory laughed. "It gets even better," she says, her eyes twinkling with a secret. "They're my new roommates."

His eyes went wide, then narrow as he tried to figure out how that could possibly work. "Wha...?" he begins, unable to complete his thought.

She laughed harder at his confusion, needing to stop and catch her breath before she could continue. "We got an apartment near here," she said finally, wiping the last tears from her eyes and taking his hand again. "For... however long we need it. Until you woke up—until you finish rehab—until you can go home... however long it takes, we'll all be right here."

He slowly moved his hand, gripping her fingers as tightly as he could, up across his chest, until he could brush them with a kiss, feeling the dryness of his lips snag against her fingertips, but in that moment, he didn't care. She was there, and that was enough. "Thank you," he whispered, wishing he could do more to repay her.

"Yeah, well," Rory said to him with a small smile, "you're just lucky you're so cute."

Logan smiled in response. Each movement was getting slightly easier, though it was still a struggle. He tugged slightly on her hand, bringing her face down to his level. Her long hair brushed the sides of his face when she leaned over, tickling him, and he closed his eyes briefly, savoring the feel of it, the smell of her, against him.

He didn't look up as the door opened and Colin and Finn chose that moment to enter, still whispering and giggling madly. "We couldn't find exactly what we wanted," Colin announced to Rory, not looking at her.

"But we found the next best thing," Finn finished for him, unfurling the poster he had in his hand. Rory sat up straight, clearing his line of vision, too, and Logan could see her shoulders shake as she registered the sight. Finn held it up against the wall, revealing a long poster—it was almost as tall as Finn himself—of Alyssa Milano.

"It's from her _Charmed_ days," Colin said disappointedly, "so she's Phoebe, not Samantha, but I don't think Logan will mind that much."

Rory squeezed Logan's hand gently, her eyes twinkling. "I don't know...why don't you ask him?"

Finn stopped in mid-motion, one corner of the poster slowly curling back down, as the significance of Rory's words hit him before it did Colin. "Wha..." he started to say, the word trailing off as Logan caught his eye and attempted to wink. Finn's face paled, but the color quickly returned as a grin played at the corner of his mouth.

Rory was still holding Colin's gaze, amused at his cluelessness, and finally, she motioned over to Logan's face with her eyes, signaling with her glance where she wanted Colin to look. His eyes followed hers, and Logan would have laughed out loud, if it didn't hurt so much, at how wide they got when they met his. Instead, he chuckled dryly at Colin's confused expression. "Hey, buddy," he said, his throat raw.

Finn finally let out a whoop and dropped the poster, leaping to the side of the bed. "Mate!" he exclaimed, his hand landing to rest on Logan's shoulder.

"I'll be back," Rory announced to the group. "I'm going to go get the doctor." Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, "I'll let you have your time with the guys." She squeezed Logan's hand once more and kissed him lightly on the cheek before she walked out.

Logan watched her leave, then turned his attention back to Colin, who was still standing near the door, a shocked expression on his face. "Hey—you okay?" His eyes had adjusted to the light, and his mouth felt a little less dry. Come to think of it, this entire feeling was just like the world's worst hangover.

Colin dissolved into mirthless laughter, sinking to the floor. "Me? Am I okay? Yes, I'm fine."

Logan wrinkled his forehead, looking at his friend. What the hell was up with Colin? Had he lost his mind? "What..." he trailed off, unable to form a complete sentence.

Colin shrugged and shook his head. "Nothing. It's—it's fine." He scooted backward, leaning against the wall next to the open door.

Logan wasn't convinced, but before he could press the issue, Finn jumped in, breaking the sudden tension in the room. "I've got a brilliant idea. The day you come home, we'll throw a big blowout. Bigger than big. The theme will be injuries. Come as your favorite invalid. Everyone must have bandages, crutches, anything. No perfectly healthy people will be admitted. How's that sound?"

Colin grinned across the room. "Perfect. Finn, you can come as a drunk bum."

Logan peered at Colin, giving him a questionable look—there was something about his tone that was off. They were joking about parties and themes and drinking, and it was the same as always, but it...wasn't. Colin's gaze was focused on the distant wall, refusing to look at Logan. "Colin—" Logan began.

Colin scrambled to his feet. "I'll be back," he quickly cut off Logan. "I gotta go."

"What was that all about?" Logan asked, slightly frustrated with his inability to do, well, anything besides lie flat on the bed, but still overwhelmed at all this information, knowledge, realizations, all coming at him at once.

Finn shrugged, pulling up the chair that Rory had been sitting. "Dunno. But tell us—what's it like on the other side? Was there a bright, white light? Were there redheads?"

"Only in your heaven, Finn," Logan grinned, beginning to feel like his brain was starting to un-fog a little bit, like those moments after waking up from a nap, trying to shake the disorientation and the feeling that time and space were somehow more fluid than he thought they were. His mind struggled to focus on a piece of information that Rory had told him earlier—even though she'd explained it, it still felt like part of the dream. "So you're living with Rory?" he asked hoarsely. "Trying to move in on my girl?"

Finn leaned back, stretching his long legs out so his feet were poked under the bed, and laughed. "A week unconscious, and that's your first thought when you wake up? Not, 'I'm so glad that my time in Finn's life isn't over just yet,' but 'What's he doing with my girl?' You've got it worse than I thought, mate."

Logan tried to give Finn the evil eye, but failed miserably, his finer muscle skills still not responding to his brain's commands. Instead, he gave a tired smile, and cleared his throat as best he could, trying to make his voice stronger. "You've been looking after her?" Finn nodded. "She's been looking after you?" Logan continued, and Finn nodded again, and this time, Logan could see his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard. "Good," he said, trying to convey all his sincerity and gratitude into that one word, letting his head drop back slightly against the pillow again.

"Everything's good," Finn affirmed, leaning forward.

Rory burst into the room, talking on her cell phone, followed closely by the doctor, Colin entering a few seconds later, his eyes suspiciously red. Finn started to get up and give Rory the seat, but she shook her head at him, still listening intently to whoever was on the other line, and sat just on the edge of Logan's bed, near the top, as the doctor began talking to him. "It's Honor again," she whispered, trying not to distract him from the doctor's questions and instructions. "She wants to talk to you as soon as the doctor's done."

When the doctor was finished, Logan started to reach for the phone, but he didn't get very far before Rory swatted his hand down and held the phone up to his ear. "Honor?" he said, his voice still scratchy.

For a few seconds, all he heard was sobbing on the other end. He winced slightly, imagining the verbal abuse about to come. "I'm so glad you're awake!" his sister finally cried, her voice thick and watery. "I'm so mad at you!"

"Honor, I..." Logan started, but stopped, realizing he had no defense.

"I'm on my way over there right now; I'll be there in ten minutes." Honor sniffed loudly. "Do you know what you put all of us through? I just..." she paused, and Logan heard plastic rustling. "I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't go anywhere," she told him, then laughed weakly.

Logan closed his eyes, feeling overwhelmed at all the activity going on around him. He was just so tired, which was ironic, considering everyone was telling him he had been doing nothing _but _sleeping for a week. "Sleep brings sleep," he remembered someone saying to him once. Who was it? He tried to reach back into his mind and figure it out, but that was just making him more tired.

"Are you all right?" he heard Rory ask through the haze in his mind, at the same time as Honor was calling his name, and it sounded as if they were both miles away. He felt Rory's cool hand on his cheek and managed a weak smile, inclining his head a fraction of an inch, just to let her know he was still with her—the one thing he _was_ fully aware of was storm of emotion—from elation to concern to relief and now worry—that was continually filling her eyes, and he wanted to reassure her, but he couldn't. Not yet. All he could do was meet her eyes and hope that his spoke for him.

Rory took the phone out of his hand, relieving him from the conversation. "Honor, we'll see you when you get here..." She kept talking, still sitting beside him, but he no longer heard her. It was too much of an effort to stay focused for so long.

Then she was back, right by his side, perched on the edge of the bed, her hand in his—right where it belonged, and Logan let his eyes drift shut again.


End file.
